Crossbows & Tomahawks
by RabidRabbit97
Summary: After the outbreak of zombies destroys her already broken family, Madeline Sinclair struggles to come to terms with the horror and struggles that come with choosing to live in a world fraught with death. When it all comes down in the end, Daryl Dixon was the only hope she ever had to survive. (Begins during the beginning of Season 3 of The Walking Dead, I obviously own NOTHING :)
1. Chapter 1

Slipping Through the Cracks

Madeline Sinclair troughed through the thick brush of the Georgia backwoods, mindful of the amount of mud caking her boots and the amount of slaps she earned from the swarms of mosquitoes that relentlessly hounded her and her fledgling group. She'd never asked to lead the young band of orphans, but she seemed to be the only one willing to stand in the front line of danger and took charge without complaining. After all, she didn't have parents searching these woods, desperately trying to find her; but these kids did, so she was going to do everything in her power to get them back safely. She tucked the worn dog tag swinging in front of her back into her tank and marched on like a good soldier, determined to get her precious troupe back to safety.

"Keep moving, guys." She hollered behind her, using one hand to shield her crystal blue eyes from the sun's scorching rays and the other to wipe the sheet of sweat off her forehead. After hours of gaining ground from their last camp, even the slightest adjustment in weight from her backpack was starting to weigh a ton. They were on their way to the last town their group had talked about to look for survivors or supplies. A town called Woodlawn or Berryville; something like that. The band of five muttered tiredly in response, obediently following her doggedly as their feet turned to lead beneath them. "Now none of that, we have to keep ahead of those things." She added, tightening the black bandana holding her chocolate brown hair out of her face.

"She's right guys; keep your head in the game!" Gerard cheered sarcastically, waving his machete around like he was still an eccentric drummer in a heavy metal band. His irritable attitude was really starting to get on her last nerve. Madeline had half a mind to shoot the haughty redhead square in face just to shut him up, but at nineteen he was the last able-bodied man in the group. Like it or not, she needed him alive.

"My legs are tired!" Oliver, the blond headed-boy-wonder nagged, swatting away a king-sized gnat off of his knee. The twelve year-old mentally counted at least one-thousand-four-hundred and ninety-two steps they had taken since they left their camp and all the adults were chased away by a swarm of zombies. His cheeks looked like ripe tomatoes and he was sweating buckets in the ninety eight degree weather, all he wanted to do was find a shady tree and read comic books until help finally arrived.

"Quit complaining, at least you weren't Walker bait like Gwen was!" His older sister Rose scolded, punching him in the shoulder at his blatant insensitivity. The third in command at a whopping fifteen years of age, Gwendolyn LeBlanc turned back at the feuding siblings and pleaded with her emerald green eyes and passive voice of reason for the two to keep it down.

"Yeah, ya brats, you'll lead 'em straight to us if you don't shut it!" Gerard remarked sharply, earning an evil glare from Madeline in the front. "I'm only sayin'." He muttered bitterly under his breath as the gang made their way up an inclining hill. A loud snap caught their attention and all at once the cacophony of the forest ceased to ring out. The rebellious group quickly shut all thoughts out of their minds but the crunch of dead leaves under heavy footsteps on the forest floor. Madeline waved her hand down slowly and the group collectively ducked low into the high grass, drawing their makeshift weapons and silently praying they wouldn't have to use them.

"Not a word." Madeline mouthed to the group, making direct eye contact with Gerard. She drew her tomahawks from their sheaths and gripped the leather handles so hard her knuckles were white. Gerard was scoping the surrounding rear end while Madeline did the same in the front, looking for the slightest bits of movement in the brush.

"Grr…" Moaned a half-eaten corpse as it weakly clawed at the dirt towards the group from the right ride, only a skeletal foot ensnaring the Walker in a death-grip from the jaws of a rusty bear trap. It looked like it had been one of those nature extremists or post-apocalyptic fanatics that roamed the woods proclaiming endlessly that "the end was nigh!" Madeline let out a sad chuckle as she could only imagine the shock this poor bastard received.

"Jesus…" Gwen groaned, covering her nose with her elbow to block out the rotten stench of decay that emanated from the unfortunate creature. In its hand was a dead squirrel; the missing head in its clutches explaining the rather grotesque crunch that almost halted the entire world.

"I got it." Madeline said, a disgusted shiver shaking her body as she drew her weapon high above her head before the snarling, grasping monster. With one fell swoop she smashed through the bone and destroyed the brain, yanking the metal from the skull with a sickening squelch she shuddered as she wiped the black pus off the blade with a handful of leaves.

"Poor idiot; got himself stuck in a trap!" Gerard joked lamely, playing off his anxiety with his usual crude humor. He was picking up the tail of the group, walking backwards still and using his well-minded paranoia in case there'd be any more grisly traps with crawling zombies hiding in the shadows. While their focus was drawn on the monsters that could be lurking from afar, they hadn't noticed Oliver slip away from the group until they heard his shrill shriek for help.

"It's got me! There's a herd coming, help!"

"Ollie!" Rose screamed, throwing herself down the hill to roll to her brother as he desperately punched and kicked out of the grip of a freshly made Walker. Half of its face had been eaten off prior to dying; Oliver could see every torn and shredded ligament down into its mashed nose, yellowing gums and half-eaten snake of a tongue. His back was facing her, but his boney arms at its dislocated shoulders were the only thing separating him from the gnashing teeth snapping wildly at his throat.

"Get away from him!" Rose demanded hoarsely, rounding around the Walker and slamming her baseball bat at the stiff's side to get his attention away from her brother. Oliver was able to worm his way out of the Walker's grip, crawling backwards and slipping under the leaves that covered the forest floor surrounding them as he hurried to run back to the fast advancing group. The running cavalry could see the swarm hunching their way toward the brawl in the brush with a rabid determination at the promise of fresh meat, reaching out their rigid limps and snapping their ugly mugs toward Rose.

With a bloodthirsty battle cry Gerard swung his machete into the Walker's open mouth and flung the cranium back into the undead group, quick to waste the closest Walkers before making his way back as Madeline scooped Rose into her arms as she shook and cried to be away from the living nightmares that had nearly snuck up on them from the down-cline.

"You never run off like that, Oliver! You hear me? You almost got your sister killed!" Gerard spat once the group had gained a far enough lead on the swarm after running blindly into the forest for almost two hours. The group had found a flat on top of the rolling hill, it opened up onto the valley of green and they could see everything around a two-mile radius. There'd be no sneaking up on them, at least for now. Once Gerard had gulped down enough water to be able to speak, he chewed out Oliver until next Sunday about his careless lapse in judgment and how dangerous it was to just abandon the group the way he did.

"I'm sorry; I just couldn't stand to see Maddie kill that guy like that! After the way he had eaten that squirrel… I was scared, okay?!" Oliver justified, throwing his hands to his sides and hanging his head down in shame as bitter tears streamed down his dirt-crusted face.

"Well this is the world we live in now and you can't be a baby anymore! So it's high time for you to nut up, kid!" Gerard fumed, his chest pumping air in and out of his burning lungs. He glared angrily at Oliver for a few seconds before stomping into a corner by the ledge of the hill so he wouldn't end up saying anything he'd regret.

"I'm sorry…" Oliver croaked, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around himself. Madeline looked at the kid pitifully but held her tongue, she needed to tend to Rose and make sure she didn't have any cuts or bites on her.

"You did great, Rose. You protected your brother from that Walker." She reassured the trembling girl; Rose had gone into a kind of catatonic state, blinking dumbly every few seconds, but not saying a word.

"How is she?" Gwen asked, kneeling next to Madeline and checking Rose's temperature with the back of her hand. Rose's honey colored hair gleamed golden in the setting sun's light; a stray lock fell across her forehead, brushed away by Gwen's tender hand.

"For what's worth she isn't bitten, I think she just needs some time to get over the shock. Don't try and play Hero like that next time okay?" Madeline joked, smiling playfully at Rose to try and get some kind of response. All that did was made her lean over and collapse on her knapsack of supplies with a dull thud.

"I guess we'll set up camp here for the night, kiddos." Madeline sighed, bushing white dust off of her jeans and setting her sleeping bag onto the smooth rock. She sat down Indian-style and propped one hand under her chin, her revolver lying dormant by her feet. She only ever pulled it out when she kept watch after dark, she'd only fire once, hopefully to kill a walker but more importantly signaling the group to hurry the hell up and start running. From the corner of her eyes she checked on Gerard, still seething from the end of the rock after yelling at Oliver.

"I only do it because I don't need these kids dying on my watch. I actually like those rug rats." He confided once the first specks of lonely stars appeared in the empty night sky. He made his way over to Madeline, sitting legs apart and a frown creasing his almost-handsome face. Over the past few weeks in their group there hadn't been any guys around her age, so it was nice to be around someone she felt she could relate to every once in a while. It didn't necessarily mean she liked him, but the shy glances she caught him giving her from the corner of her eyes didn't mean she didn't like it.

"Understandable." She replied, not taking her eyes off of the black forest that lingered but ten feet away. Being focused and daydreaming required separate parts of the brain now, so if she was going to be on watch, she needed to at least look where she was supposed to.

"If anything happened to them… They're just kids, Maddie, they don't deserve this; they deserve a chance in life." He commented gloomily, looking at the sleeping children like they were the last sources of happiness left in this world. The kids went to sleep a few hours ago, all in a small huddle, helpless as a bunch of puppies in a box, beside a mountain of moss. In a sense he was right, but Madeline could only hope that those kids would make it through the winter.

"We'll just have to find out, now won't we?" She thought aloud, unaware of how strange an answer she had given.

"You want me to take watch now?" He offered hopefully, smirking grimly once he noticed the gun now perched on the corner of her hip, creeping dangerously closer to her the longer she was let to stay awake.

"Sure," She shrugged, moving over a foot so she could lie down on her sleeping bag for a while. Over three days she'd only gotten maybe two or three hours of sleep at a time, it was really taking its toll on her once she was finally able to let her guard down and stop constantly moving.

"I'll wake you up when it's your turn." Madeline grunted in response, already half conscious and enthralled at the sweet release sleep provided for her.

Kill or Be Killed

Gerard shook Madeline three times, each push more urgent than the next until he finally punched her in the stomach for her to snap into her senses.

"We have to move, there are people out there and I think they're lookin' for us." He whispered through grit teeth before Madeline could knock the daylights out of him. Madeline fought the black patches clouding her vision and nodded. She swiped the revolver into the waistband of her jeans, ducked low and slid on her belly over to the kids to wake them out of their daze. She needed to get them out of here and fast.

"Come on guys, it isn't safe anymore, we need to find our way to that town your parents told us about and quickly." The children rubbed the sleep out their eyes and shook their heads to get some energy in; they could sense the fear Madeline tried to hide in the firmness of her voice and their adrenaline began to pump instinctively.

"Is that them?" Gwen asked, the faintest hint of terror quavering in her voice.

"Sorry, Gwen, but we can't trust those people to have our best interests at heart." Madeline responded sadly, tugging on her hand to lead them back into the brush away from the exposing swerve of flashlights. Oliver and Rose looked at the lights but didn't stop their feet from moving, if Madeline said it wasn't safe they learned that they were going to have to trust her.

"Don't step on any twigs, I have a feeling they expect us to slip up and rob us clean of our supplies!" Gerard warned quietly from behind, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the dark figures lurking in the brush only a stone's throw away from them. He had to strain his ears to try and listen in on their conversations, but he could only make out the phrase "idiot hiding behind the bush" before he was caught in full view of a blinding white light.

"Run, Maddie, run!" He screamed, running the opposite direction in a dead-bolt to lead the unknown hunters away from the kids.

"Whoop, whoop, we got us a live one!" Someone shouted gleefully, waving a group of men over to Gerard with loaded guns and blaring cars. Madeline gasped, in the headlights of a vehicle she could see Gerard's crimson-dyed hair bobbing and swerving in a serpentine motion to try and get away. It was pitch black outside and the streaks of light penetrated through the safety of the darkness like a knife. She could make out his yelling over the sounds of jeers and curses before being startled back into reality by the deafening cracks of gunfire.

"Run guys, keep behind me!" She urged, crouching upwards slightly and running back down the dirt path they had followed.

"Oh look, we've got ourselves some hiding rabbits!" The voice teased, waving his flashlight at the back of Madeline's head. She could see the outline of a masculine body, towering over her even from ten feet away and was nearly overwhelmed from the terror her drove into her heart.

"Slide," She ordered, throwing her feet behind her and slipping over the leaves to crash to the bottom of the hill. The children obeyed, looking back at the light like it was Death itself hounding after them as surely as the Walkers did. Their pursuer wouldn't give up so easily, he jumped down the hill and landed on his feet with superhuman agility.

"Run, Gwen, get Ollie and Rose out of here," She pleaded, looking into Gwen's eyes with deadly determination. Gwen knew she didn't have time to argue, in a matter of minutes the area would be teaming with Walkers because of the noise and they had talked about what she needed to do in case she had to leave them like this. It was her job to lead the group until they could be reunited…. if they ever would. "Go…" Madeline said, her voice dead flat, pushing Gwen gently away as the hunter closed in. The fifteen year old silently herded the frightened younger children towards the woods and gave Madeline a last, unsure glance before the children disappeared into the shadows.

"Well it's about time I had me some action!" The man beamed, a crooked grin shining almost as brightly as the headlights from the truck on top of the slope. In the dark Madeline could barely make out his face, dirty and grimy, with skin that reminded her of leather. His color was slightly tanned and he was crowning a thin veil of gray hair on his square shaped head. He made a step to advance but in a flash Madeline whipped out her tomahawks and held them in a defensive position, an animistic snarl reverberating deep from the back of her throat.

"What do you want?" She barked, refusing to be intimidated and ready to die if need be for the sake of the kids she had only known for a few months. This was the real world now; and it was all coming down to this in the end. One way or another, she'd either have to cower in surrender to death, or go down in one hell of a fight. Surrender, Madeline mused, isn't exactly my style anyway.

"Now calm down, darlin' I only want to play around!" He chuckled, a rowdy Backwoods accent thickening his voice. Madeline could only imagine what that implied, but she kept her mind narrowed to the task at hand. She planted her feet firmly into the earth and swung her tomahawks with expertise, looping them like batons in her hands and over her head to boast her finesse and skill. The message she wanted to send this behemoth was simple: If I go down, I'm taking you with me.

"What do you want?" She insisted, glaring down the tall man who crept closer and closer into Madeline's immediate range of attack. Tiny beads of sweat trickled down her burning skin, the muscles in her arms yearned for release as her mental time-bomb was crawling to a deadly halt.

"Are y'all the gang of stupid kids supposed to be comin' to Woodbury? 'Cause I'm supposed to bring you over." He explained, a mischievous smirk curling even deeper at an unsaid thought. "But that don't mean all of ya have to make it back." He purred, looking over Madeline and licking his lips hungrily.

"Oh crap," She thought, darting her head above as she heard Gerard cry out in pain. Two guys pushed him to the edge on the curve of the slope, holding his arms behind his back, one used a free hand to yank his hair and expose his neck, a hunting knife biting eagerly into the white flesh.

"Looks like your boyfriend's 'bout ready to join in on the fun!" He laughed, his voice ringing through the empty forest, giving Madeline a perverted wink in her direction. She could faintly hear Gerard groan in pain, and could only pray that he'd be able to hold his own if he needed to keep running. This was a battle that they needed to win.

"Come on and fight me then!" Madeline goaded proudly, puffing out her chest and pointing her tomahawk squarely in his face. "What; are you scared of a little girl like me?"

The look on the redneck's face was priceless. He had his mouth dropped open in an incredulous grin and his jaw seemed to hang wide enough for her to shove her fist in it.

"Now you're either the most ballsy girl I ever meet, or just plain stupid!" He scoffed, putting a hand on his head and shaking it in disbelief. "Scared 'a you?" He whipped his head to the side to face her and suddenly launched full-sprint right towards Madeline, his nose flaring and his blade coming down straight between her eyes.

Madeline reacted fast enough to deflect him, but the blunt force from his attack pushed her back a few inches and made her lose her balance. As she came crashing to the ground she whirled her spine so she could land on her feet and butt her head right into his gut. The man hadn't anticipated her not falling on her ass and wasn't nearly prepared for her to head-butt him in the stomach. He let out a wheezy gasp and shoved her off, slamming her into a nearby tree and ready to slice her head off. Madeline couldn't see him through the dizziness in her mind but she heard his heavy boots crunching the leaves under her and at the precise moment he sliced the tree, she let her legs give out and slid from underneath his, winding her way around so she could pistol-whip him in the back of the head with her tomahawk.

"Oof!" He snapped roughly, swiping his good arm around and launching her across the dirt head-first. Madeline crawled backwards, scrambling to find her revolver suddenly trapped behind her back, before the man would be able to grab her.

"Aah!" Hissed a voice from behind, footsteps quietly shuffling towards her; Madeline looked up and saw the mutilated face of a Walker snapping it's jaws from right on top of her. With a loud scream she tore her weapon from out of her jeans and shot her gun wildly at its face, rolling on her side as the body fell flat on top of where she had once been.

"Damn it!" The man swore, analyzing the mount of Walkers that had been able to find their way over here so fast. "I reckon its time for me to head on out, darlin', nice meetin' ya!" He said quickly, giving Madeline another wink before running back up toward the incline. Madeline picked up her tomahawks and sprinted after him, fast enough to catch Gerard when the two men dropped him on the ground like a sack of meat. Madeline pushed him onto his feet and slapped him across the face for him to come back to his senses. They were running out of time they couldn't afford to lose.

"Run, you moron, there's Walkers!" She demanded, grabbing his hand and forcing him down the path after the parade of cars and taunts that sped off in the direction away from the hoard. Madeline didn't dare look back, he could feel Gerard struggling to keep up with her, his breathing was ragged and raspy, and every other step he seemed to step over his feet and nearly trip over himself. "Please protect the kids, dear God, please keep them safe." Madeline thought gravely, pushing the thought out of her head before she turned back to look for them.

"I can't keep going!" Gerard coughed, his knees wobbling, and wiping off the blood that stained his lips. Violent spasms rocked his core; his feet were jutting wildly from side to side as he struggled to keep conscious from the pain.

"Shut up and keep moving!" Madeline nearly screamed; tossing Gerard's arm over her shoulders and pushing his weight upwards so he could stand. She wasn't facing the fact that there was at least three bullets lodged in his side and he was leaving a splattered trail of blood behind them.

"Stop!" Gerard winced, squeezing his side with his free arm and grinding his teeth as pain seared through his body. He doubled over; his knees ready to give away and preparing to let him finally give in. He looked up sorrowfully to Madeline, his bright brown eyes quickly dimming underneath her crystal clear gaze. "I can't keep going, Maddie, I can't run away from those things anymore; this is the end of the road for old Gerry." He croaked, smiling weakly before he vomited blood all over the forest floor, dropping down on his hands and knees as more and more poured out of his mouth, more blood than Madeline had ever seen in her life.

Horror welled inside her body when the realization came that Gerard had finally collapsed and wasn't moving. She had almost called out to him but the growling of Walkers drew her attention away from the misery that she felt tearing away in her heart. Tears welled in her eyes and she parted his red stringy hair to look at his face once last time. "I'm sorry!" She cried, running away from the death, desperately trying to escape the pain she felt at the loss of her friend.

Madeline knew better than to just run blindly in the dark but it was too much for her to process, she couldn't think, otherwise she'd draw her gun to her head and kill herself before giving it a second thought. "Run, run, I have to run!" Madeline ran until she tripped on a branch at the top of the hill and tumbled into a small cave under an overlooking rock. She was fortunate to have slammed her head against the stone, as it released her of the suffering and she disappeared into the blackness before she even knew what hit her.


	2. Chapter 2

Survival

Madeline awoke when she was already moving, her feet mechanically operated as her subconscious demanded she keep on her feet, due to suffering a minor concussion on account of the fall from the top of the hill. The morning mist lingered in the air like a thin veil, dew in the grass soaked the back of her tank top and fiery orange rays licked the treetops above as the sun began to crawl lazily into the lavender sky. She chuckled dryly to herself at the everlasting beauty of nature, unchanged while the world had turned to a morbid mass of death and malice. She wasn't stopping her feet as they moved with a mind of their own, instead dumbly staring at where they had taken her. She hadn't the slightest idea, but she just kept moving without a care in the world due to her grogginess. With a hard thump against a tree at the bottom of the slope, she fell backwards and sat there until she came crashing down to earth yet again.

"Argh!" She moaned painfully, clutching her head as bright lights danced across her vision and deep aches stabbed in her chest. She sat there breathing, just focusing on the minimal effort it took for her to keep living at that moment, the opportunity she had at life that was stolen away from millions of others. "C'mon, old girl, you have to keep living…" She sighed, rising to her feet and dusting off dirt that stained her black tank top. Force of habit made her gently wrap her hand around her dog-tags, as if they were an anchor that kept her on the earth and out of the haze her mind had been left in.

She looked forward, her heart nearly stopping as she registered what was in front of her. It was the Prison, the landmark that they were supposed to find once they were a few miles on the outskirts of the town! Joy filled her spirit so much she felt like doing cartwheels until she slapped herself across the face to get a grip on herself. She needed to find the kids, who for all she knew they were still in the woods hiding from a swarm of Walkers… "Or they could be holed up in there" She thought in the back of her mind, a seed of hope taking root in the belief that she could rescue the kids and reunite them with their families. There was a small hole in the Prison's defenses, the chain-link fence had a rip in its links big enough for her to squeeze under, it would be a snug fit but she pondered being able to fit underneath it.

"Okay, be cool; if I'm gonna even make it to the other fence I need to have some kind of a plan…" Madeline said aloud as she examined all the aimless routes the Walkers took, realizing a favorable gap that they were making so she could beeline towards the fenced courtyard. From her distance in the woods it would take her maybe forty-five seconds to reach it, but she had to be absolutely prepared in case of any possible flukes. She checked her tomahawks, assuming she'd use them only on the closest of Walkers for dismemberment, not to kill. It looked like at the checkpoint there was more than likely a lock on the entrance so she'd either have to find a guard or just climb over the fence. Doing a bullet count on her pistol she had five in the barrel and three extra in her pocket. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

Madeline let out a deflating sigh, there was so much that could possibly go wrong and the kids might not even be there. She had to at least try, she resolved, dropping all "Ifs, ands or buts" and as if on God's grace, she was able to spot a guard, shambling on a few feet from being right in front of her.

"Thank you!" She whispered as she shoved her way through the rabbit hole hidden behind some tall grass. Once she made it through she darted out of her hiding spot and with a hard slice lodged her tomahawk into the side of his skull. Three Walkers heard the squish as she yanked the weapon out of the brain but hadn't spotted her because she let the dead Walker shield her from view. He weighed a ton but Madeline's firmly toned muscles kept him upright. She lifted him with her right shoulder, feeling along its ragged security belt for any keys. She tried holding her breath as long as she could; she could already feel the burning odor that secreted from out his mouth, pieces of flesh and meat stuck in between the gaps where teeth had fallen out. With the most beautiful metallic jingle she brushed her fingers along a set of keys and tugged them off the remnants of a belt loop with ease. Madeline held them in her teeth and poked her head out from the side of her undead shield; the gap was quickly closing in as the paths of almost a dozen zombies were starting to intertwine.

"Dammit!" She hissed through her teeth, pocketing them as she dropped the guard and sprinted as fast as she could towards the entrance. Madeline used all she had to keep from shutting her eyes, she roared as she swung her tomahawks at the grappling arms and snapping teeth, jumping over Crawlers and smashing in a few heads with her heel as they waved their decaying limbs at her ankles. As she maneuvered along the dirt road A Walker nearly ripped off a piece of her tank but Madeline reacted before she even knew what was happening. An arm flew off, a hand, she didn't know; she didn't have time to stop and stare at the carnage she laid in her wake. "Go, go, go! Hurry up!" She thought hurriedly, jerking her legs around to fake out a Walker that stood directly in her path, ten feet away from safety, just staring at her with its one good eye. Madeline stared back, frozen as she held her tomahawks shakily in her hands, her mind completely shutting down as the Walkers behind her closed in. The zombie tilted its head and watched her with its cloudy gray eye in a childlike curiosity. Madeline panted in and out, helpless as she watched him advance closer and closer and BAM!

Madeline let out a terrified scream as bits of brain and dry blood splattered onto her face, kick starting her instincts as she hustled towards the fence. She swung wildly and nearly severed a Walker's head clean off with one strike, ultimately she was shoving away Walkers as fear took over and made her most primal instincts take control of her. She hadn't even noticed the fence had been opened until she slammed into something and fell back down on her ass.

Madeline sat on the concrete, feeling the familiar sharp drag on her hands before she erupted in sobs. She covered her eyes in her hands before dropping them away from her in horror. They were sticky with grime and black blood, almost up to her forearms she was caked in the blood of Walkers she slaughtered as she went on her rampage. She hadn't even noticed until then; she just gawked at her hands, stained in that dead liquid and reeking of decay.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now." A voice threatened, followed by the familiar sound of the cock of a gun. Madeline looked up, her crystal blue eyes dilating as she was faced with the barrel pointed straight between her eyes. She focused on the man that stood in front of her, behind the gun, glaring her down with eyes that gave away who he was despite his cruel threat. It felt like they looked at each other for hours before she answered, "Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor."

The clarity of her answer seemed to shock him; he lowered his gun only slightly before asking another question. "Who are you?"

"I'm nobody; I'm just another human being." She said, craning her neck so she could get a better look at the man who was very seriously threatening to kill her. Madeline gave him a small smile, admiring his features from the high of her adrenaline that surged through her veins. The man was fairly tall, slim, with dark wavy brown hair. He had a trace of stubble growing along his jawline and a very masculine face. The glare of the sun made her bring a hand over her eyes, but the movement made the man flinch, and bring up his gun defensively.

"What's your name?" He insisted, inching the gun closer to her face. Madeline frowned, but she took notice of the slight shake his hand gave as he pressed the gun to her forehead.

"Madeline." She stated softly, raising her hands slowly above her head. "I'm going to get up now, and you'll realize I'm not a threat." She added, cautiously rising to her knees as she locked eyes with the man again.

"Not a threat? You killed almost ten Walkers by yourself, storm in here for no good reason and you think you're not a threat?" Another voice hissed. Out of the corner of her eye Madeline could see the man who asked. He was Asian, thin and had what would have been a clean crop of black hair. With the switch in her line of vision she could see there was a decent amount of people here, surely they would know if someone had spotted a few renegade youths.

"I only did it because I'm looking for some kids who were separated from me. Have you seen or heard of any?" She asked hesitantly, looking directly at the man who she assumed was either Korean or Japanese. He shook his head and frowned, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

"Now why would you go on some suicide manhunt for these kids all by yourself is what I want to know." The man with the gun in her face continued, kicking it up so Madeline could stand on her feet. "How do I know you don't have people in those woods looking to take over our territory?"

"You don't." Madeline almost scoffed, folding her hands behind her head and thinking of possible answers she could give. She knew there was no point in lying; they probably wouldn't believe her if she told the truth anyway. "I was supposed to be watching those kids. I gave their parents my word that I would keep them safe. It was me and Ger—" Her voice caught with the mention of Gerard.

"My friend and I," She corrected, swallowing a lump in her throat, "were the only ones left in our group. There used to be almost twelve of us but we were separated by this herd of Walkers and the kids were on our watch while their parents took care of camp. I don't know how many Turned, died, or whatever, but we were supposed to meet up at the town a few miles out. I don't have their kids, how am I supposed to tell them that I lost them?" She pleaded, stray tears falling down her eyes. The man seemed conflicted about his feelings before a voice shouted, "Guys you need to come back inside, my dad's only getting worse!" A woman with wavy brown hair cried, lingering at the iron doorways that lead inside the prison. Madeline heard the man with the gun curse before he ordered her to follow him. He grabbed her by the arm and she was forcefully escorted inside the prison.

Madeline couldn't help but see the irony of her situation, all her life she'd been taught that the law was supposed to be on her side, that there was nothing she ever had to worry about. Now the world had gone to hell, there was absolutely no form of government anywhere in the world, after all the illegal things being an army brat let her walk off scot-free with, and now she was thrown in jail. "Hardy-har-har, karma, very funny…"

First Impressions

"So… the kids you lost… what were their names?" Madeline looked to the side from the corner of her cell and met young Carl Grimes for the first time. After relentless interrogation the leader of the group, Rick, decided to keep her there, prisoner it seemed, until he was convinced that no one was looking for her. She'd been spiraling into depression since, but the appearance of a youthful face made her smile. It reminded her of what Gerard had said before he… died.

"There were three: Rose, Oliver and Gwen." She chimed sadly, her heart heaving with guilt. The longer she stayed in there, the harder it was for her to believe they were still alive. "How's the old man?" She asked curiously, trying to change the subject, lying down on the hard mattress that was held up by a metal beam attached to the wall. She's seen an old man on a gurney on the way in and he seemed like he was pain for a while because she heard his moans. After a while he had stopped, so naturally Madeline began to wonder.

"You mean Hershel? He'll be alright… we, well my dad, saved him from Turning." He confided, sitting Indian-style across from her cell door. Madeline raised her eyebrow questioningly but didn't feel like prying. Kids had a way of telling secrets on their own.

"Well that was real nice of him." She said dully, scratching at the crusted blood that caked her arms. The initial shock was wearing off at a much faster pace now, compared to her three-day illness from the first time she'd killed a Walker, an hour or two recoil after killing ten wasn't too bad.

"Do you want some water?" He asked smoothly, his blue eyes sparkling with interest despite how he tried to play it cool. "Is this kid flirting with me?" Madeline couldn't help but applaud his efforts, "at least this one was nice enough to help me out before he started grabbing my butt…" Bittersweet memories of the first time she gave Gerard a bloody nose for being a pervert made her heart ache with loss. Despite her pain within, Madeline kept on her show and pretended nothing was nonetheless amiss with her.

"I'd appreciate it, thank you." She smiled, genuinely, moving to her door to watch the boy leave and head down the iron stairs. She limply shook the bars in her cell, knowing they wouldn't budge but for the sake of it she gave them a good tug. No such luck. With a bored groan she lay back in her cell and tried to sleep. As she lay there silently she heard the commotion of the group below as they did chores and made good with what they could, just like her old group used to. For a second, she pretended that she was in Zach's old RV, still with her old group, just listening to her iPod, slacking off and drowning out the world…

"I'm back with your water." The boy said lowly so he wouldn't startle her. He came up with a tin bucket half full of water and a plastic cup. He left it against the door and cautiously backed up before sitting back down to watch her. Madeline went and sat down in front of the doors, putting the cup into the bucket and taking a long drink, letting the cool water slide down her parched throat and along the corners of her lips. She wiped the streaks off with her bloodied hand and dunked them in them in the bucket, the clear water gradually turning a smoky red color from the blood, thickening with gunk as Madeline scrubbed dirt from underneath her fingernails.

"You can call me 'Maddie' if you'd like." She offered, wiping her hands on her jeans with a friendly, weary smile on her face.

"Cool, you can call me Carl, I'm only called Carl." He gushed silently, a hint of a blush appearing on his freckled cheeks. He dusted his dark hair from underneath his Sheriff's hat and resumed to lean into their conversation.

"Carl, it is then." Madeline agreed, adjusting the tightness of her bandana. She remembered she had a deck of cards somewhere in her bag so she went back to her bed to get it. After a few seconds of digging she was able to find the dog-eared deck and asked Carl if he knew how to play Speed.

"It's like Uno, right?" He asked, pushing the bucket out of the way so she could cut him his hand. When all the cards were laid out she explained the rules and slowly showed him the hang of it with her arms wriggling through the bars.

"Don't think I can't whoop you at a game of Speed from in here, I'm a total pro at this!" She joked, hustling through the motions as Carl struggled to keep up with her pace.

"Speed!" She cheered, slapping her final card, an Ace, on top of Carl's King. He stared at the six cards still in his hand in amazement, chuckling happily even though he lost. It was a fun game to play. After three more games Carl was pretty decent at the game and he was only behind by four cards.

"You're getting good fast!" Madeline commented contently, not stopping her hands from moving as she operated the cards.

"Thanks, I'm a pretty fast learner." Carl replied, slapping his cards more surely and precisely. After he intercepted one of Madeline moves he was so happy he yelled, "Speed!" before he could stop himself. The two laughed heartily at his mistake but it was a happy one nonetheless.

"Carl?" asked a female voice from downstairs. Carl groaned dejectedly but got up and apologized for having to leave.

"My mom's calling, I gotta go." He muttered, rushing to get downstairs and attend to his mother. He was already halfway down the stairs before Madeline could say "See ya" so she laid back onto her bed, card still on the floor, and tried to get some sleep.

Madeline was startled by the loud clang on her cell. She scrambled to an upright position, her hands reaching for her tomahawks but to no avail. Rick and the guy named Glenn took them and her revolver when they searched her after permitting her to be let inside. "What is it?" She grimaced, her side sore from the hard mattress. The sun was high in the windows above, so it must have been around two or three in the afternoon.

"Rick wants us to go out on a run so I'm here to wake your sorry ass up." A gruff Backwoods accent informed sarcastically. Madeline got up quickly and marched to the door, stepping on the cards she had carefully lain out for her and Carl to play later. Guess it was safe to say that wasn't happening. She sized up the man in front of her; he was tall, slim-built, with stubble along his lips and chin. He was a decent height, had dirty brown hair and deep blue eyes. She didn't say a word, just glared at him bitterly as he unlocked the door and motioned with his head for her to walk in front of him. Not kicking her teenage habit of rebellion she rolled her eyes and shook her head defiantly, begrudgingly obeying his command. She hated going anywhere without her weapons, but if they were going to run errands outside, they had to give her something, right?

The rest of the group was stationed downstairs, five men, including the one behind her and four women. The old man was supposed to be in a cell somewhere, but from where she was she couldn't see him. Madeline straightened her back, folded behind her hands behind her, and was moved into the other cellblock in the prison to debrief with Rick. Trying her best to ignore the alien stares the rest of the group gave her, aside from Carl, who timidly refused to meet her gaze from behind his mother.

The iron bars shut, locking them in the room with leader of their group, who sat facing them on a metal bench, her tomahawks and pistol laid out right in front of her on the table behind him. Not willing to appear rude Madeline tried her best to keep her eyes on him, so not to spook him. The man looked on-edge enough as it was.

"I may not exactly trust you; trust's something you have to earn. So if you want me to even think of letting you go, you do this for me and you make sure there isn't a scratch on Daryl when you two get back. You understand?" Rick gave Madeline an ice-cold sneer, burning anger glowering in his eyes with every word that rolled off of his tongue.

"I got it." She answered simply, her cool gaze meeting his smoldering ignition.

He grunted in response, handing her her tomahawks in one hand and her revolver in the other. From his side he pulled out two battered police walkie-talkies and handed one to Daryl, his auspicious glare holding on Madeline. "If she pulls any kind of stunts, radio in and I'll find her." He warned Daryl, who nodded stiffly.

"C'mon." Rick commanded, gaining the lead towards the exit. Madeline murmured her obedient answer before following the men back into the outside world.

"Don't give me a reason to leave you behind, Little girl, don't think for a second I won't ditch you first chance I get." Daryl said once they were out of earshot from Rick and the prison. Madeline was tempted to retaliate but she bit her tongue, only gripping her tomahawks tighter as they made their way to a lot of vehicles. Madeline's heart began to ram inside her ribs, a ghastly feeling of déjà making bile rise inside her throat. Was this the group that killed Gerard?

"No, can't be…" She whispered to herself, shaking the thought out of her head. Daryl thankfully hadn't heard her, or if he did, he ignored it, much to Madeline's relief, no matter which. Daryl made his way over to a '60s Triumph that on any other time in the world Madeline would have begged to ride. With another dry chuckle she scoffed the idea away and halted in her tracks once Daryl had suddenly turned to face her. He grabbed her chin and pulled her face close to his so he could look her squarely in the eyes. The sudden closeness to Daryl made her head spin, but she fought to keep her eyes open as he nearly crushed her jaw with his palm.

"My bike, my rules; hold on and if you're not on my ass by the time the engine kicks, I'm gone, with or without ya." Madeline nodded quickly and he let her go, throwing a leg over the seat with her jumping on to follow suit. He had the keys in the ignition and with a hard rev the motorcycle roared to life with the most beautiful sounding scream. Madeline wrapped her arms around Daryl's firm waist and held onto him for dear life. Rick was at the gate, running across the yard to have it open and shut before any lingering Walkers could get inside. With an alluring rumble between her legs Madeline fought the eccentric giggles that reverberated across her body.

Daryl drove through and sped on the dirt path, as if he didn't notice every Walker and its mother was shambling their way towards them. Daring a quick look behind her she could see the prison getting smaller and smaller then finally out of view when they had reached the main road. Madeline leaned her head on Daryl's back, which was surprisingly steady for her to lie on. She looked into the deep forest and could only imagine where the kids were, dead, alive, or something worse like in-between. If those people had found them, maybe they took them to the town. She had to know for sure, either it was with their safe return or her blade in their skulls she didn't know. Though she knew in her heart she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Madeline did her best not to think as they drove on in silence for a few minutes, winding down the slim ribbon roads of Georgia. The whipping wind slapped at her hair and smacked her in the face every now and then with falling leaves or dead bugs. Having locked her hands around Daryl's waist she adjusted her weight slightly so she wasn't too hunched over. She thrust herself a little further down the seat so she could relax her arms, only to have her midsection pushing painfully close into his hips and her face smashed against his shoulder blades. "Way to go, Maddie." She thought dumbly, wishing she could tear her hair out with how awkward her situation was. Of course the man driving could care less, he didn't know her, and she wasn't of significance. Madeline was barely old enough to drive a car yet here she was on the back of a motorcycle with some backwoods stranger during the zombie apocalypse. Best not to get too self-aware, she reasoned; things were definitely topsy-turvy nowadays.


	3. Chapter 3

Chances

Daryl Dixon did his best to ignore the nice, soft cushion he felt leaning along his spine and focus on the _sumptuous_ curves of the road. _"Jesus you're a pervert!"_ He scolded himself mentally, a wry smile coming across his face when he realized he was still in touch with his inner manhood. "Don't get too comfortable, Little girl, we're almost there." He informed, keeping his dignity in and out of his pants, not that it wasn't a welcomed surprise... There was a gas station a few miles south of the prison that he'd been meaning to check out and since Glenn was on watch in case Hershel turned Walker on them, he'd do the right thing on his behalf. So he ended up having to go on the run, but luckily he had a capable, more importantly, _expendable_ resource on hand: The New Girl.

Once they pulled up a few yards shy of a service pump Daryl turned his key, shoved it in his pocket and pegged his bike with his boot. "Don't just sit there, get movin'!" He barked, yielding his crossbow and carefully advancing into the parking lot. He could hear Little girl complaining and pouting behind him but he knew she'd wise up and listen once she found out _exactly_ what he was capable of. _"Jesus…"_ He thought, pushing his lustful desires out of the way as he looked inside the foggy glass from the metal doors. It was too dark to know for sure from inside, but he could guess there'd be a few surprises lurking behind Aisle 1 and 2 from experience; especially the register, Jesus if he had a dime for every time a Walker popped up and bounced on him like a bat outta Hell from behind the register he'd have a whole dollar to pocket. Sadly, money didn't matter much anymore but it was still a nice point of reference.

"Keep your head out your ass and cover me, I'm not in too good a mood to be French-kissing with these freaks." He growled, waving a hand for Little girl to crouch down and follow close behind him. _So far so good_, there wasn't a person in sight, (dead or otherwise). The road was completely empty and the surrounding forest was silent in the blinding light of day; _so far so good…_. Daryl opened the door with a loud creak, the hinges of this particular door rustier than a penny in a junkyard. He cursed his luck under his breath but motioned for Little girl to go on through under his arm while the door was open. She hustled through, still crouched, unintentionally giving Daryl a favorable look at the bounce of her backside. Daryl caught the thought and almost threw the door off the damned hinges in agitation. He _really_ needed to go out more if a little teenage tail gave him hard-ons faster than a football player with his first _Playgirl_. He disgusted even himself sometimes.

Little girl was standing now, using the back of her shirt to cover the midriff that exposed her tight, soft skin… "Stay focused, now will ya?" He complained out loud, wringing his fists in frustration but refocusing once he saw a Walker shambling over from down the snack food aisle. He lifted his crossbow to his eyes and expertly shot the Walker in the center of its forehead. While he rushed to retrieve the arrow, Little girl was slicing and dicing her way through _two_ Walkers, waving her tomahawks around like they were silver batons and decapitating the zombies fast enough for her to catch him ogling and give him a sporting wink. With an impassionate whoop he was ready to up-the-anty when he found, low and behold, an _extra_ rotten Walker slouched over on the cash register to his far right. He caught the bloated sucker in his sights when he heard Little girl yell something from across the aisle. He was able to waste the sorry son-of-a-bitch but when he turned to shout at her, dried blood spattered all over his face, temporarily blinding him. He dropped his crossbow, using his shirt to wipe off the sticky slime oozing on his skin. He could hear Little girl shouting for him over the snarl of Walkers but they were moving to her, he hoped. When he could finally see Daryl yelled for the Walkers, "Come and get me!" drawing their attention away to give her some space.

One shuffled giddily over to him, extending its decaying arms that were spotted blue-green with liver spots and stiff with rigor mortis. Her upper torso was completely eaten away and Daryl was given full view of her digestive track as it pumped and spilled yellow pus from her large intestine. Almost throwing up on sight Daryl launched his hunting knife clean into her sunken eye socket and she went tumbling down like a stack of bricks. He dived down and shot back up to shoot with his crossbow but Little girl was moving too much. "Get out of the way, Little girl!" He thundered, trying his best to aim accurately at the scuffling mass of Walkers that were closing in on her.

"Can you just shut up and shoot?!" She yelped, dashing down an aisle to get him a better shot. The four walkers turned around as they skittered towards her, mouths cracking in and out of the joints in rabid hunger. Daryl shot two with arrows and they knocked over, but he was going to need those arrows if Little girl was out of her own weapons. She came around the aisle, one tomahawk raised before she rammed into a Walker from the side and uppercut its jaw clean off. Grabbing the side of its head she threw the corpse to the floor and curb stomped on its skull until her boot nearly got stuck. Daryl pulled out the arrow he lost in the fat Walker and aimed it at the last Walker… She was only a kid. Memories of Sophia came rushing back to him but it looked like little girl was just gonna let her eat her if he didn't do _something._

"I'm sorry." He whispered gently, as if it were a message to the young girl he had failed to save over nine months ago. He aimed his arrow true and in moments it was done. The redheaded girl in the torn sundress was finally set free and she collapsed onto the side of a broken freezer, bound to this earth no more. She was dead, finally dead. Little girl had pinned herself against the wall, sinking to her knees and pushing her harder and harder against the floor as she looked at Daryl with a mix of horror and anguish. He slowly made his way over to her, pity shining in his blue eyes as he offered her a hand to stand back up. She took it, rising to her feet and letting a small sob come out, just one, so she could let it go and be free of that humanism that tortured her _every day_ she lived in this world.

"Thanks," She said mutely, daring a shy glance back at the redneck that saved her life. She went over to the snack food aisle and with a sickening _splat_ pulled her other tomahawk out of the Walker the uncanny redneck had failed to notice coming behind him earlier. "And you're welcome." She added, finding a plastic bag so they could put what food and supplies they could salvage from the ruined gas station.

"_Daryl, can you hear me? What's your status?_" channeled a fuzzy but familiar voice.

Daryl pulled the old walkie-talkie out of his other pocket and pushed the receiver button, answering "I'm fine, we had to bust a few heads but we got it under control. We're getting the supplies now, so we should be back soon."

After a few moments of static Rick finally replied, "_What about the girl?_"

Daryl covered the mouth piece with his hand and looked over to Little girl, who was filling a plastic bag with travel-sized toiletries and melted Kit-Kat bars. A warm smirk made its ghostly appearance in the corner of his lips when he reported, "She's with us, Rick. I can trust her."

Having retrieved four bags, mix and matched with pain killers, canned food, deodorant, bars of soap and melted candies, Daryl was ready to pull out of the run-down gas station when he noticed Little girl slip something in her pocket.

"Whatcha doin' over there, Little girl?" He asked casually as he sifted through some cartons of cigarettes from behind the cash register. He could hear her grumble something under her breath before he asked again, "_what are you doing?_" this time with a hint of acid in his voice.

She shook her head and her eyebrows furrowed a little; he watched her pull a small pill bottle of prenatal vitamins out and she tossed it over to him, looking very displeased at his mistrust.

"The woman that's pregnant might need those," She noted, giving him the cold shoulder as she was tying the bags in knots for the ride back. "We've got what we could for now; these supplies should last for a couple of days." Little girl looked at Daryl for a second but let herself out to sit on the bike and wait for him to be done with whatever it was he was doing. Daryl gave her a scoff as she went out and followed her strut down to the edge of the bike from the window in the door. Feeling a bit like an ass, he grabbed what he was looking for before he would let himself think twice about it and jogged back outside so they could get the hell out of there.

Daryl snorted something vile tickling his throat and used that as a distraction so he wouldn't have to watch Little girl staring at him as he made his way to his bike. Although he did find it funny when he saw her face contorting in disgust once he could spit the gooey phlegm out of his mouth almost a yard away.

"Women," He chuckled to himself, throwing a leg over the seat and smoothly putting the key into the slot. The engine roared to life and that tingling purr settled pleasing rumbles in the pit of his belly, if anything made him feel like a man, it was his (well actually _Merle's_) bike. He felt Little girl's arms wrap around his waist and as her touch sent scorching flames in the fire pit of his gut, he reeved the engine and the two peeled out of the gas station without a look behind them.

"Rick, we're on our way." Daryl radioed in; knowing if _she_ answered old Officer Friendly probably wouldn't be too thrilled to hear it. He reached behind him and handed the walkie-talkie to Little girl, so he wouldn't have to worry about missing a call. "If the red light's blinking you need to hand it me!"

"Got it!" She shouted over the thunder of the engine, taking the walkie-talkie from out of his hand. Moving his it back to the handlebars he accidently brushed the back of his palm against the inside of her thigh, a light squeak rang out clear as day and a gentle buck rocked him in the hips. _"Whoops…"_ He thought mischievously, smirking proudly to himself.

"Sorry…" He muttered sheepishly, tilting his head so he could check on the young woman behind him. When he turned to the road his skin was creasing on his forehead with all sorts of hindsight and devilish thoughts. Little girl didn't say a word for the rest of the trip, but when they were turning onto the dirt road leading to the prison he felt a finger persistently jabbing into his side.

"The light's blinking!" She announced, touching the receiver on his forearm so that he could see it. Daryl could see Rick running towards the gate to open it while he took the call.

"We're here!" He shouted into the receiver, seeing the ant-sized sheriff crawling over the yard in the distance. Daryl swerved around the Walkers, not really minding them as they grabbed and swung mindlessly at the air trying to catch them. Rick yanked open the wire fence and locked it with the steel chains as Walkers pounded and pulled wildly against it. The engine went silent as Daryl parked and pegged it with care, taking two of the plastic bags Little girl had and showing them to Rick. He nodded at Daryl, then moved his head to Little girl and did the same. She nodded back, getting off the motorcycle and presenting him with the supplies.

"Oh, and uh, she wanted to give these to Lori." Daryl said, handing Rick the vitamins so he could inspect the bottle. It was still sealed and there weren't any holes in it, so he said a silent thanks to Little girl and decided now would be the time to inform the group about her situation. She still wasn't talking, so as Rick went back to the compound, he pulled her aside so they could have a talk.

"You holdin' up alright?" He didn't mean to sound so concerned but it was only supposed to be a simple question on his behalf.

Her crystal blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she took the black bandana off of her forehead so she could wipe her face. A long chestnut curl came across her eyes and she bitterly brushed it behind her ear. "I'm fine." She huffed, scratching her nose with the side of her hand. Daryl smirked in disappointment but he wasn't gonna babysit her. If she wanted to talk he'd let her if not, he wouldn't keep asking.

"Let's get movin' then. Christ, I hope those kids of yours knew what they were getting into runnin' off like that." He commented, turning his back for her to follow him. Anger ignited and burned her mind; Daryl could hear her running towards him from behind and whipped around to grab her raised arm that held… A picture. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her eyes were rimmed with red as they fell to the cement. He felt her hand shaking and he lowered it, taking the picture and tenderly holding the old Polaroid that held a small group posing in front of a campsite.

There were three kids in the front making dorky faces, Little girl posing beside them with her tongue sticking out, throwing the Mark of the Beast with an open grin beside a tall kid with bright red hair. In the background he could see some adults, probably the parents, smiling and standing there, idly waiting for their picture to be taken. He flipped it to check the back for a caption and in spongy black ink it said

_**Surviving the Dawn, autumn of 2012**_

_**Front row: Gerard, Madeline, Rose, Oliver, Gwen**_

_**Back row: Eric, Sandy, Michael, Sarah, Zach, Joseph, Kendra**_

"They're only kids." She gasped, yanking the picture out of Daryl's hand and stomping off to enter the Prison. He hustled after her, knowing if she just barged in there alone, Rick would probably shoot her on sight. _"Way to go, asshole." _He thought sourly to himself, quick enough to catch the door as it swung open.


	4. Chapter 4

Comatose

Madeline slammed her fist angrily against the wall, anxiety breeching her mind and tormenting her with guilt. After she and Daryl had returned from the run she was put back in her cell without so much as a "Thank You". She could have been in there for days for all she knew but it was probably only six thirty in the evening. She _hated_ feeling like a prisoner; _like a criminal!_ All she wanted to do was helping those kids and bring them home and _this_ is what they do to her?!

"_Where are you?"_ She pleaded mentally, staring at the Polaroid picture until her eyes stung. She remembered the compass she'd given Gwen weeks ago and taught her how to keep the sun on her right in the morning and on the left in the evening to reach where they were going. It was dark when they were attacked, they could have gone backwards for all she knew! She told them to _stay away_ from the main road, too many risks and they'd be hard to miss from anything with eyes. They still had food, Madeline always told them to keep extra cans on them, and if she remembered right, Ollie was the one with a can opener…

Madeline's stomach gurgled deeply at the thought of food; she carefully placed the picture back in her pocket and sat on her metal bed. She would have to wait to eat until supper was ready; assuming those people would even _allow _her to eat. As if on cue Carl came up the stairs and stood at her cell, reaching his slim hands inside and handing her a familiar dog-eared deck of cards.

"You saved them?" Madeline smiled, his kindness making her heart swell. Guilt trudged on her mood when she recalled how she had carelessly stomped all over them when Daryl had ever so charmingly come to fetch her for their run.

"Well yeah, I figured if we were gonna keep playing we'd need these." He joked, a shy chuckle brightening up his face. _"Well aren't you just a charmer, aren't ya?"_

"Thanks for being so nice to me." Madeline confided, feeling a twinge of melancholy in her gut. He'd even cleaned the mud from her boots off of most of them, some cards were too stained to completely clean but they were still legible.

"It's nothing; I do it because I really do believe you're looking for those kids." He answered honestly, a pitiful smile dimming his features once again. "Supper's ready, my dad said it was alright for you to eat with us since you helped bring in supplies with Daryl." Carl pulled out the set of keys and unlocked the door with a quiet click. He slid the door open with a screeching scream and motioned his hand forward, saying "Ladies first."

Madeline wanted to hug the boy so much her arms ached but she kept it to herself and gave him a polite nod. He followed behind her, his light footsteps making a faint thud against the cement floor. When they descended down the iron stairs she was greeted by the whole group, save the old man on the gurney from earlier.

"We wanted to thank you." said a feminine voice. Madeline looked at the _very_ pregnant woman and suddenly felt a horrible foreboding. She hid her thoughts well and gave her a friendly smile instead, responding, "You're welcome" before being allowed to stand on her own two feet at the flight of the stairs. The woman was maybe a few inches taller than her and wore jeans with a flowing white shirt to accommodate her belly. "My husband said you wanted to give me these." She held the bottle of vitamins in her hand and smiled warmly. Madeline didn't know how to react; she simply shrugged her shoulders and brushed that darned lock of hair that kept getting in her face. "It was a nice thought, thank you."

Madeline was inclined to think that the game of Twenty Questions was going to go into overdrive now that they were started with them. The group walked with her outside to the yard where an old checkered table cloth was laid out with cans of beans and cooked meat. If she got to have a meal, Madeline would tell them all they wanted so she could gain their trust. She needed to leave and soon. She didn't want to stay longer than a day but something told Madeline that they wouldn't exactly let her _leave _just yet. If they would even send a _small_ party with her just to _check_ where the kids were it'd be enough for her. The thought died when she saw a gang of three heads wobbling their way from the far edge of the forest towards the prison. She bolted towards the fence, pressing her face as close as she could to try and see them; who they were, what they looked like. Narrowing her eyes as much as they would go, she seethed in frustration then asked if anyone had binoculars.

"I do." Daryl answered, moving up to where she was and handing her a busted scope. Madeline put it to her eye and looked, struggling with the optic mirror to find the bobbling heads but Daryl's calloused hand gently guided her to where she intended to look. Suddenly Madeline collapsed, her knees gave out and Daryl flinched to gather her in his arms. "Don't just stand there!" He hollered at the group, grabbing under her arms while Glenn picked up her legs. The two men carried her back into the Prison while Rick saw something flutter out of her jeans and carry with the wind. It landed at his feet and he bent down to pick it up, curiously eyeing the family-like group in the Polaroid picture.

Rick went to investigate where Madeline was standing and found the cracked scope. He used it to find the moving heads and what he saw made him sick to his stomach. In the distance, along the border of the fence, were two blonde children and a third girl, unrecognizable due to the destruction of her face. The blonde children were scuffling along, matching bite marks on opposite side of their throats, fingers broken on each hand and bleeding black blood, teeth marks all over their fleshy arms, torn to shreds presumably by the other. The third girl toyed with the ribbons of skin hanging loosely where her nose used to be, mutilating herself as she tore the strips of flesh off and hungrily wolfed the pieces down her broken jaw. Rick retched and covered his mouth, realization horrifying his psyche to its core, his mindset shattering with the gruesome fates that the children endured.

He glimpsed at the photo once more, mortified at the reality. Those children were lost in those woods almost a full day and they wound up dead. _Then they came back_. He felt a tremendous amount of guilt for not believing in Madeline, for holding her hostage all this time while she begged for him to let her go and find them. The women stood there, completely confused about what was going on and what to do.

"You guys go on and eat; I'll take care of this." He ordered steely, striding back into the prison before anyone could object.

"Damn!" Daryl cursed angrily as he and Glenn carted Madeline back into her cell. She dropped like a shot doe and would've cracked her skull if he hadn't been quick enough to snatch her up before she passed out. It was bad enough she made him feel like a drooling teenager but now he had to be playing Nurse?

"_Hell no!" _He thought as he dropped her upper torso squarely on her bed with a loud thump. _"She wasn't going to make him stoop that low."  
_"Take it easy, man." Glenn hushed, scooting her knees gently on her bed after hissing at the pain he didn't even feel. He lifted his chin to look at her serene face; definitely sure she'd feel _that_ once she woke up.  
"Shut up..." Daryl grumbled, huffing out of Madeline's cell, wanting to be as far away from her as possible. He'd almost knocked heads with Rick at the corner because he failed to notice he was coming up from behind.  
"I don't think what she saw made her faint for nothing," he started, beads of sweat lining his brows. He wiped a hand over his face and stretched the skin on his chin, his mind seeming to be buzzing like a beehive.  
"Whatcha mean?" Daryl asked, his head tilting curiously in Rick's direction.  
Rick shook his head and licked his chapped lips, a habit Daryl noticed he did when he was figuring out how to say something he knew wasn't going to be a walk in the park to say. "Those kids she said she needed to find? They're dead."  
"Wait, what?" Glenn asked, his breath stolen right out of his lungs. Rick put his hands on his sides and let out a deep sigh before looking the two men in the eyes.  
"They're dead." he repeated solemnly, placing the photograph he had found beside Madeline's head. "And it's my fault for not believing in her." He finished, turning his back and exiting the room as a dark cloud quickly settled in the air. Daryl and Glenn stood there silently for a few minutes and looked from the comatose teen to each other in silent understanding. Someone had to stay and break the news to her when she woke up. A pained moan below alerted Glenn and he gave Daryl a pitiful nod as he sprinted out of the room to tend to the awakening Hershel.  
"Hey grab me some grub while you're down there!" He yelled, following Glen's shadow. "Damn it!" He cursed again, storming out of Madeline's cell to grab something to eat and sate the howling beast lurking inside his belly. 

Canned beans and undercooked rice was on the menu, all washed down with hot, cloudy rainwater they had saved from a storm a few days back. The group ate in polite silence on the concrete, aside from Carl and Beth evoking up an interesting conversation about how the grass never seemed to grow in the courtyard on front of the prison.  
"So what are we going to do about the girl?" Lori asked casually, using a trusty spoon she'd saved from Hershel's farm to pick up stray grains of mushy rice out of her plastic bowl.  
"Her name's Madeline." Carl interjected, his brown eyes dead-set on his mother with a cold firmness. His mother was fixing to ground him for a week when Rick interrupted.  
"We're going to cross that bridge once she wakes up." Rick stated, shifting his eyes between his wife and his son; his stone-firm voice ending their minute argument. The two resumed eating their rice and would dare to give each other questionable glares from under their eyelashes the rest of the meal.  
Carl noticed Daryl coming towards the picnic a few feet away and tried to hide his happy smirk. He plopped himself on the tattered tablecloth with a bitter scowl wringing his face, instantly killing his sarcastic vibe. Daryl didn't look too happy to be bothered by his questions about his new friend.  
When everyone was done with their meal he Beth and Maggie began scooping up cans when Beth handed Daryl an unopened can of beans.  
"It's for her." She said shyly, brushing a stray blonde hair out of her forehead, looking at her feet and batting her eyelashes timidly at the gruff, muscular man. He adjusted the bundle of opened cans in his arms so he had room in one hand to grab the small tin can out of hers. Daryl said a silent thank you and tipped his head at her before turning away and heading back inside the confines of the prison; blissfully unaware of Beth's pathetically obvious infatuation with him.  
"You really need to get over yourself; he's way too old for you!" Carl teased under his breath when he passed by the hapless teen who stood as still as a statue, gawking over the fingertip Daryl's rough, calloused palm brushed against.  
"I don't even like him, Carl!" Beth squawked, a cherry-red blush staining her smooth pale cheeks. She threw her head back proudly and puffed her chest out as she marched back into the prison, for once thankful her father was unconscious so he wouldn't chew her out about her secret crush. "I don't even like him..." She thought stubbornly, shaking the thought out of her head with a scoff.

Daryl was in and out of Little girl's cell so fast he nearly knocked the tin can against her foot when he placed it at the edge of her bed. He could hear her shifting her weight against the squeaky springs, her breath hitching as if she was having a nightmare. Daryl went to go and hole up into his tower when he was in the way of a swaddling Lori Grimes.  
"'Scuse me." He muttered, squeezing beside Lori's bulbous belly. He prayed he wouldn't have to have a talk with her, but with a disappointed cringe he felt her fingernails grazing against his arm.  
"Daryl, she's a good kid." She sighed, shifting her weight from her swollen feet using his arm for balance. He grunted in acknowledgement, running his tongue over his teeth as he counted the seconds until their conversation would be over. He _hated_ talking to Lori; everything she did seemed to fray on his last nerve, regardless of what kind of mood he was in. "Rick told me about what had happened we can't just toss her out like garbage!" She continued, using her arms for dramatic effect, making herself look like a retarded penguin. Daryl held his tongue as she rambled on, but her couldn't help but grind his jaws together harder the longer she spoke. "I know you may not like her but she was with you longer than any of us and Rick isn't in too good a place to guilt you into talking to her, but I am."  
"Uh huh" He agreed mindlessly, nodding his head as he tried to drown out her voice with random thoughts. He wondered if he could do a hundred pushups in under a minute, how many squirrels he had eaten this week or how long it has been since the first walker he had killed, even what day it was! _"Feels like a Tuesday..."_  
"…So will you please do us the favor and try to look after her?" Before Daryl could spit that he'd rather chew off his own foot before he was left in charge of some whiney teenager he heard her clear her throat behind him.  
"Hey, sweetie, how are you holding up?" Lori asked with genuine concern, swinging her weight towards Madeline. Daryl swung his foot around so he could look at her better, and the young girl seemed to have aged ten years. Her long wavy hair was let to cascade down her bruised shoulders, framing her dirt-coated face. Black shadows hung under her eyelids and the way she slowly twisted her neck to meet his gaze he could have sworn he looked straight into her soul. With a squeaky hiccup she gave him a goofy, toothy grin and chuckled deeply in her throat, wiping trailing tear stains off of her cheek with her forearm.  
"For a stupid child-killer I feel great!" She slurred, throwing her hands in the air and swinging them around like an imaginary noose. "I mean, they died because I left them alone but what was I supposed to do?" She continued, laughing hoarsely and swaying from side to side, dropping her hands and shutting her eyes. "I thought they'd be safe, I tried to protect them, but... but..." Madeline lost her voice, shuddering with quiet sobs as she tried to blubber on but failing to find the words.  
"It's alright, sweetie, it wasn't your fault..." Lori soothed, wrapping her arms around Madeline and rubbing her back reassuringly; who kept weeping and moaning against her shoulder. Daryl shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned, tapping the tip of his boot on the floor awkwardly as Lori comforted the very emotional, very drunk teen. He could smell the whiskey on her breath when she spoke to him, how that got by Glenn and Rick when they inspected her stuff was beyond him but he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Remembering the way he had acted after Sophia... he would've drunk himself to sleep for a week if he had had any booze. Luckily for him he didn't; but he couldn't help but wonder if this was how the world was going to be from now on.  
"Why don't you go back to your cell and try to rest?" Lori whispered gently into Madeline's ear, smoothing her hand her over her hair. Daryl saw Madeline nod her head and shuffle past him to go back to her cell. As she walked down the narrow aisle her feet wobbled and she dropped to her knees, the back of her shirt hitching up to reveal the bottom of a tattoo on the small of her back. Daryl's eyebrows rose instinctively and he flinched at the sharp sting when Lori slapped him on the arm; all but hissing at him to go and lend her a hand. With an irritated roll of his eyes he walked over to Madeline and mechanically put her arm over his shoulders and lifted up, wrapping a hand around the curve of her hip to keep her from slipping over. Knowing from experience with Merle, drunks liked to wriggle around and try to shake loose but Madeline just hung her head against the nape of his neck and kept limp.  
"I'm sorry you had to see that..." Madeline giggled, propping herself up on her elbows after Daryl had lain her down to give him a better view of her slim abdomen. He swiped his hands out from under her, wiping them down on his jeans with a scowl curling his face.  
"Don't even start," He spat, plopping on the floor and waving his arm out of the cell for Lori to leave. He glanced under Madeline's bed and saw the culprit of her sob story; a half empty travel-sized bottle of Jack Daniels rolling around innocently out from under her hand. With his arms resting on his knees he stared back at Madeline, who watched him through her fluttering eyelashes, smiling bedside himself as he watched her drift in and out of consciousness over the next few minutes. She lay down on her side to look at him, hazily admiring how handsome he was now that she was wasted out of her rational mind.  
"Ya know you'd be kind of cute if you weren't such an asshole." She commented sleepily, tucking her arm under her chin and finally closing her eyes. With a dignified scoff he shook his head and made himself comfortable on her floor, resting his eyes as the warm afternoon sunlight glowed in through the iron bars of the prison windows. 

It must have been around seven when Madeline finally sobered up enough to walk around because once Daryl cracked his eyelids open a slit he jolted to his feet and speed-walked down stairs to find her. As usual no one was asking too many questions about what he was doing or where he was going; most of the daily chores were finished so everyone was desperately trying to figure out other "methods of entertainment" to keep themselves busy.  
After scoping out their cellblock he discovered that Maggie and Glenn were "conveniently" missing since Carol had volunteered to look after Hershel for the day, Rick was polishing his gun and doing an ammo count in the lobby while Carl played cards with Beth on the table in the cafeteria, and Lori hung up the last of the laundry on an open hand rail. Leaning against the rail of a flight of stairs he contemplated asking Carol if she'd seen Madeline but realized he might sound worried about her and decided to head back to his storage cell and have a decent place to get some sleep. He saved that cell to keep some extra weapons in and since people would probably go looking in his perch, he liked the escape. Having his neck so oddly angled gave him an awful crick in his spine so he felt like a little relaxing would do him good. He put his hand on the back if his beck and tried to rub out the aching knot but as always he couldn't seem to reach the spot where it hurt.

"_At least I can have some alone time."_ He thought hopefully as he followed his feet, staring at the floor while he let his feet take him where he needed to go. Daryl Dixon had half a foot past the doorway to his cell in the far side of block C, the farthest one down the aisle with a line of sight that let him watch everyone downstairs without giving them the courtesy to see him watching. That's why he picked it; he wanted privacy, to be left alone; in solitude! Yet there she was, half dressed in his personal space with her eyes as wide as a star-struck deer and frozen with one leg in her pants and the other on the ground.  
"Jesus, Dixon!' She squeaked in surprised as the shoved her feet into her pants and frenziedly threw on a black tank to cover herself in vain attempt. The flustered teen ran her hand through her damp hair, putting it over her shoulders as she crossed her arms and gave him a look that let him know she was mad as hell. "What are you doing in here?" She sneered, her face contorting like an angry lion. Daryl dragged his fingers over his mouth and looked back at her with a devilishly sarcastic grin.  
"Well I'll be damned if I interrupt a strip-tease in my own goddamn room!" He answered sharply, indicating where his backpack was, his spare pistol and set of arrows were, knowing she had at least enough sense to figure _that_ out on her own.  
"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she let her arms fall and shrugged in meager defense. "Yours was the only one open..."  
"Jesus can't a man get some privacy without having some woman always yellin' at him?" He scoffed, moving past her and jumping onto his bed. "You can get out now!" He hissed, watching her storm out of his cell as he tried to relax, his mind souring all and any attempts at peace now that the image of her half-naked was seared into his mind. "Stupid girl..." He thought bitterly as the picture of her gave him rushes that reminded him of how MIA his manhood had been in almost a year. Of all places in the prison she just _had _to wander into his cell, honest to God he wished she'd have found the catacombs and played hide and go seek with an army of walkers and see how much of a smartass she was then.

Madeline stormed off with the aisle swerving and orbiting around her, her head throbbing in pain as she determinedly staggered back into her own cell. She couldn't believe the nerve of that arrogant redneck! She dropped face-first onto her bed and lost herself in the flat, moth eaten pillow, the dull cotton wrapping around her face in a comforting embrace. She dangled her hand off the edge and knocked down something that was placed by her bed frame. She sat up to investigate, crisscrossing her legs and reaching down to retrieve the mysterious item.

Careful not to spill its contents, she suspiciously sniffed the lid; nearly dropping it as her mouth filled with excited saliva. Someone had given her food! Reminded of her hunger by the roar of her belly, she dove into her backpack along the corner to find a plastic spoon and plunged into the tin can of beans like a rabid animal scarfing down chunks of meat off of a fresh carcass. Within minutes the can was scraped clean and Madeline licked off any leftovers from her spoon and threw it back into her backpack. She was satisfied for now, but with a long exhale the throb in her head returned with a vengeance, wresting with her brain deep inside the cage of her skull.

"Don't think about it!" She ordered her mind, yanking her pillow off of the bed and smashing it against her face. She pressed her back against the wall, the cool concrete sending tingles down her burning skin. The evening air was starting to thicken like mud, the sun may have been crawling under the earth but it wasn't going to let its absence change the intensity of the heat, radiating over the prison like some kind of inverted microwave. She released her grip on the pillow and laid back down, forcing herself to keep her mind occupied on anything that wasn't related to... Them.

She reached under her shirt and twirled the metal dog-tag in her hand as she tried to imagine the one thing left in the world that would never change: her father's face.

She pictured him as she always did, in his white t-shirt and jeans, the same dog-tag she wore still dangling around his neck. He had melted caramel eyes and a clean cut, his biceps were the size of basketballs and she could feel his strength when he wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear,

"I love you Mad Maddie." Madeline clutched the dog tag on her neck with all her might, as strongly as she felt he was, as hard as he could be for her but would never show it. She could feel the ghost of his lips pressing onto the crown of her head and telling her she would always take care of her because she was a princess and was her brave knight...

"And a brave knight has to leave sometimes to protect the kingdom, right?" The smell of his cologne was crisp and musky; still in his arms she could smell him and believe every word he said, he had to protect her, of course it made sense to leave.

"Okay, Daddy." She mouthed, unshed tears creeping through the corners of her eyes as she pictured the saddened smile he gave her, knowing he had only hours before he would have to leave; oblivious to his fate only days after... Madeline rolled helplessly onto her side once more and silently wept at the bittersweet memories of the father who would never know how horribly the world he tried to save would turn on the person who he loved most and morph her into the murdering monsters he had fought so hard to protect her from. He died almost a decade before the outbreaks, years before the country would collapse in on itself and the army would swallow itself with murder, massacre and suicide.

Her memories took a dark turn as she relived the planes literally falling out of the skies, trains derailing into traffic and streetcars exploding as bombs were set off and riots were unleashed upon the unsuspecting public. The rabid, gnashing teeth ripping off flesh flashed through her mind and she could still see the thick blood pooling in the streets as crowds of people scrambled in every direction, hoping to escape the chaos. Her world was a battlefield; only her enemies were both undead _and_ alive.

As her anxiety steadily ate away at her sanity Madeline was startled by the sounds of laughter emanating underneath her, people still finding joy in this world that would eat you alive at any given moment. _"Alright, that's enough of that,"_ the down-trodden teen thought glumly, forcing her to get out of bed and find something productive to do with her "new friends"

There was actually much to be thankful for after her decision to join the ranks of her companions and away from her own morbid thoughts. Having been granted permission to carry a handy survival knife was a small, but treasured relief to Madeline. The sheath kept on her lap band gave her the assurance and peace of mind that if the world went to hell (again) she'd at least be defensible. The morning after she'd made a fool of herself Rick also made her an addition to the group official by allowing her to roam freely around the prison. Her actual knife was formally returned to her after her fifth day with the group, but her tomahawks were still on hold for another two days. If she really needed them, she didn't doubt Rick would _lend_ them to her, but having his family sleeping so close to the newbie made him understandably paranoid. Although she was still a little shaky on matching names with faces, she had a general idea of who was who. Some were easier to remember than others.

Rick, Lori and Carl were a family; and so were Hershel, Maggie and Beth. Glenn was the Asian, T-Dog was the only black guy and Carol had shaved her head. There were some Undesirables that they shared the far side of the prison with, but Madeline reasoned that the less she knew about the outsiders then easier it would be to "dispose" of them. Then of course, there was Daryl. Ever since she had arrived he always seemed to give her an angry glare and some sort of snide comment on anything and everything she did. She was also quick to discover how much she despised the ever-so pleasant nickname he had given her.

"Hey, little girl, would you stop bein' useless and help clear out these walkers?" Madeline shut her murder mystery novel and dropped it on her bed, by force of habit rubbing the small of her neck where her dog-tags hung by idly and rolling her eyes as she followed the vindictive redneck. She knew his type; headstrong, cocky, prideful and _extra_ aggressive. He was "nice enough" to let her know that the route to the infirmary was quickly refilling with Walkers (as they also called them) and it was their job to go in and brush off the blunt of them and try to salvage any medicine.

Madeline tucked her long hair into a messy bun and tightened the knots of her laces on her boots as she and Mr. Redneck-Know-It-All geared up at the hall entrance. "Thanks," she smiled kindly at Beth, (?) slipping her hands through the sleeves of an old, slim jean jacket. It was a snug fit but it offered her arms vital protection so it was better than nothing.

"Don't mention it." The young blonde breathed, shyly looking at her with a half-smile that drooped limply on the corner of her mouth. She was about to ask her if anything was troubling her but the vexing man awaiting her made yet another aggravating comment toward her fashion sense made her stomp over toward the entrance so he's finally shut his yap.


	5. Chapter 5

Reawakened

"Jesus, Dixon, don't you _ever _wear sleeves?" Madeline whispered in irritation after her eyes refused to unglue themselves from his bulging biceps. She was annoyed more than ever with her teenage hormones, because now she was desperate enough to check out the biggest bigot in all of Georgia! _Why couldn't you just make my life easier and wear a stupid jacket?!_

"They slow me down," He grunted in response, vigilantly observing the dim hall way for any Walkers, praying he wouldn't have to make any more unnecessary conversation than he needed to. _"Well isn't that a manly answer?"_ She cursed at him mentally, grinding her teeth so she wouldn't snap at him or slap him upside his over-sized head.

"Don't you ever keep your mouth shut?" He added smoothly, launching a swift arrow at a lone Walker from down the corridor. Madeline desperately held her tongue and did a visual inspection of the empty cells, trying her best to conceal her grimace as the stench of rotten meat grew stronger and thicker as they progressed. They picked up their pace, weapons poised to strike, and their tensing muscles screaming for release and the thrill of the kill as they stalked their undead prey. After yet another wiseass comment Madeline rolled her eyes, unable to contain herself and finally responded, "If you end up turning because of a stray claw I'll cut your head off and keep you as a souvenir."

"You expect I won't do the same? C'mon little girl, you know me better than that." He chuckled silently as she threw her tomahawk into a Walker's skull as it shuffled toward them in the darkness. Tip-toeing their advancement, Madeline retrieved her weapon and doubled back into position while the skilled marksman took out a pair of stragglers creeping from behind. The shadowy labyrinth was eerily silent, aside from the occasional screech of a rat and rusty groan of the pipelines the hallways were barren and empty. The redneck yanked his arrows out of the dead Walkers and sheathed two of them, reloading one with gooey grime and blood slicking his hand as he pulled the bow back to hoist it.

"Figure they may be nesting somewhere deep inside, usually this place is crawling with 'em." He commented; sweeping his hand sideways as the two rounded a corner. With her left hand providing their only source of light, Madeline swung the flashlight low and dragged it along the floor about fifteen feet, Cautious so not to alert any awaiting Walkers.

"Aw crap." She swore mentally, guesstimating the number of Walkers holed up in a decayed doorway to be at least a dozen. Faint rays of light glimmered along the spaces of their bobbing heads, signaling the location of the infirmary.

"My count is three, so far you've only got one." He teased flatly, moving her back with his hand do they could draw out a few at a time with her light.

"We'll my count is you've only got about five arrows and there's almost a dozen walkers." She hissed stubbornly, her checks burning at his snide comment.

She banged the butt her tomahawk against the wall three times, not too loud to alert all of them but enough for a lucky few to creep over and investigate it. Madeline waited to see the rotted profile of the first one to blindside it, crushing its fragile cranial bone with her sharpened blade as it tumbled to the floor, knocking down the following two. Dixon was just as quick to make his move, from his angle his arrow silently pierced one Walker's eye socket and went through the other side of his skull, pinning the third's fingerless palm to its deadweight partner. Before the Walker could growl loud enough to alert the rest of the hoard Madeline rapidly torqued her body and smashed the back of her heel onto the last one, silencing the undead janitor with a messy squelch.

Madeline's grimy boot tapped silently back to the floor, but the momentum of her force kept her gently bouncing on the arches of her feet as her adrenaline rocketed through her veins. Daryl Dixon would never admit to her just how nicely done her roundhouse kick was, but if she had glanced at his direction at just the right moment, she'd have seen his impressed, incredulous grin.

"I never thought I'd see a pretty little white girl like you smash in a head like a man."

"Well isn't that just about the nicest thing you ever said to anyone?" The unimaginable pair strutted out of the catacombs proudly, every single Walker in that hallway was dead and accounted for, not a single one was left "alive" and they hoped it would stay that way, if not for a few days, a week. Surely in all their bloody fun they lost count, but the two insisted if the other hadn't claimed a landslide victory it would've ended in their dead center tie.

"Glad you guys could finally join us!" Rick greeted the two invitingly, admiring the healthy amount of black blood and flesh stuck to their clothes.

"Glad to finally be done." Madeline replied, rolling her neck over her aching shoulders and stretching her legs. Breaking bones and smashing heads without so much as a warm-up stretch goes a long way on the limbs.

"Figure that hallway should be clear for a few days," Daryl said to Rick, crossing his tensed arms and spitting loose saliva from his mouth onto the floor. While Madeline politely declines the loud snort she held in contempt at Daryl's manners, she was secretly holding in a chuckle.

"Could you be any more redneck, Redneck?" Madeline joked, nudging him playfully with the tips of her fingers, turning her head and grinning at him sarcastically, then suddenly shoving her hands into her pockets. _Where did that come from?_

"Now listen here smartass-" Daryl started in rebuttal to the insult, either or oblivious to or opting to ignore Madeline's physical reaction to touching him.

"So I think we're done here guys, you should head on in and see what else might need to be done!" Rick interrupted, passing through the closing gap between the feuding (nearly) friends to (very urgently one might add) go and check on his pregnant wife back in their cellblock.

Madeline didn't see any more outstanding reasons to stay, other than staring at Daryl's ugly mug and doing extra laundry; she really had some tough decisions on her hands. Mulling over her decisions wouldn't be too helpful at the time, so she opted to return to her cell and try to take a nap or catch up on her close-combat skills in solitude. Daryl hadn't spent any extra time on his decisions as he bee-lined for his usual perch in the guard tower, which was left lonesome this morning while the two of them went to clear out the catacombs.

Madeline shot her fists at the awaiting air, her strength rippling through her muscles as her fingers jutted and jabbed at her mental opponents, sweat trickled down her shoulders as they pushed against the imaginary attackers, striking finishing blows to the figments of her imagination as they fell into defeated piles at her feet. Her movements were precise and deadly, she could match this invisible enemy in each stride, countering its feeble retaliations by altering her very fluid fighting style and turning the attacker's moves against him. When she fought she had to be _fierce, unforgiving, and __without mercy__. _Madeline was glad that if her wretch of a stepfather had taught her anything, it was combat….

She straightened out her flexed knees, her calves hard as steel and sculpted from her consistent practice. She let herself catch her breath with a dry chortle and she returned to her cell from the empty hallway, wishing she could use her skills to knock a certain smartass down a few notches from his pedestal… She needed a break, comic relief! Because sooner rather than later, her past, as well as the future, would come banging down her door with the brutality of an avenging angel…

Rise

Being sprawled on the flattened mattress made her muscles tense and knot; Madeline rolled onto her aching back, arms still folded over her eyes. Today was quiet, after clearing the hallway to the infirmary Rick let her and Daryl turn in early to get some rest. Being task-less and lazy for an hour drove her insane and eventually her mind got the better of her and she found herself outside in the hot sun folding laundry in the courtyard with Beth and Carol.

The most exciting thing to happen in the otherwise soul-wrenching task was when she was emptying the pockets of a mischievous pair of dirty pants. Her face flushed bright red with heat, blood gushed through her cheeks in rapids through her veins as she shoved the unopened blue condom wrapper into her jeans before Carol would notice. She was very friendly and liked to make good-natured jokes when they spent time together but her non-existent sex life was _definitely _not something she wanted open to discussion. Luckily the naughty pair of pants was the last to be scrubbed 'clean' so once they were safely hung onto a drying rail she returned to her cell to do…. Well, nothing…. again.

It was now late in the afternoon, probably three or four, the sun hung in the clouds like a chandelier, bathing the gray prison in glowing amber light that danced across the fleeting shadows. From her cell, a mildew-coated overlooking window filled her room with light, nearly blinding her as she moved her hands to see the looming figure that flitted across her doorway.

Her left eyebrow raised curiously at the sight: Daryl Dixon was leaning across her doorway, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a hand brushing through his messy hair. _"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?" _

"Wanna go huntin'?" Madeline would have thought he'd about lost his mind if he was serious. He didn't even _like_ her to start with. Memories of his insipid taunting and hurtful jeers made her countenance sharp and eyes narrow in her response.

"_Pardon_ me?" She inquired, getting off her bed, her eyes unwavering from his _shying _eyes (?) to see what kind of sick joke he was trying to pull now. _"What are you playing at, Redneck?"_

"Hell, I was just askin'! Don't get your panties all in a knot." He rebutted bitterly, his usual scowl wringing his face as he hurriedly stomped out of her cell. Madeline anxiously bit her lip, holding back a shout that suddenly felt the need to stop him. Time was running out, in seconds he'd be gone, the opportunity at freedom gone!

"I'm comin', wait up!" She suddenly yelped, jolting out of her rationale as she rushed out behind him. She swung into the hallway to give him a halting palm. "Just let me get my stuff, Jesus…" "_I must be out of my mind…"_ The allure of the outdoors even for a few hours was too enticing to pass up on compared to being holed up in this concrete cage for the rest of the week; she'd choose a ride with Daryl any day if it meant getting some sun on her skin!

Madeline quickly skidded back inside her cell and grabbed her backpack, tossing in any spare clothes and securely fastening the hoisters for her tomahawks onto her lap band. Suddenly she had never felt so excited for something as simple as a hunting run…

"We'll be back." Daryl grunted to Rick as the mysterious couple passed him by in the hallway.

"I didn't figure you'd be taking Miss Sinclair with you to go hunting." He chuckled mischievously, an incredulous grin framing his face as his sky-blue eyes sparkled with interest. The sheriff was certainly unaccustomed to Daryl spending so much time with another person to begin with, and certainly not with the very person he threatened to kill not a week ago. Rick, however, was willing to see just how far this new relationship would go between the two hard-asses before he would dare to intervene. Beside the point, it was actually humbly entertaining to see the two feuding like a married couple in a place that hadn't heard laughter in over a month.

"Well I didn't neither, but little girl felt like being useful for once and practically begged me to take her." He grumbled devilishly, winking teasingly at the very angry young woman when she glared at him openly between the two older men. Rick conveniently wasn't looking to see the naughty gesture, so she retaliated in the only way she could think of, thus making her seem even guiltier.

"I did not!" She flustered, her rosy cheeks burning indignantly at the false statement that made Rick bumble and grin like a fool. It was too cruel of the world when all of a sudden that _goddamned lock of hair_ magically flipped out from her ponytail and Madeline could hardly stop the irritable shriek that was about to erupt from within her as she hastily brushed it behind her ear for the millionth time.

"S'alright, sweetheart, most women, you see, can't resist my animal magnetism." The purr in Daryl's voice made her jaw drop in disbelief; she honest to God wanted to combust into the flames of her shame and die right there on the spot._ "Was this guy even real anymore?!"_

"_WHATEVER!_" She squealed brashly, rushing past the two men and bee-lining for Daryl's motorcycle before she would punch the _stupid, egotistical, narcissistic _bastard right in his jaw. Dismissing their conversation with the slam of the iron door, she huffed and puffed her mighty stride all the way to the awaiting vehicle. She was _going _to get him back, and as the sinister mastermind sauntered out of the prison, she suddenly had an idea of how. Idiot hadn't even thought of making it hard for her...

Madeline prayed to whatever God that what she was about to do would royally piss off Daryl Dixon to the point where he was screaming and yammering in her face. _"This'll teach ya, smartass!" _Madeline waited for the precise moment; she could hardly keep the cigarette to her lips once her giggles bubbled from her mouth at the thought Daryl's look of horror and rage that _she_ was smoking his precious pack of Marlboros. He needed payback for embarrassing her like that in front of Rick, and if he had concealed his little unhealthy habit a little less pitifully she might not have been so vile. Alas, Madeline was a very cruel, and very twisted woman, so sacrificing a few petty seconds of her life would be worth the laugh on her part.

The iron door screeched in announcement to Daryl and Rick's arrival, Madeline proudly hoisted the redneck's silver lighter and as she heard Daryl scream and shout in protest from afar. The world seemed to turn in slow motion as she took that first drag from the slender cancer-stick and awarded Daryl Dixon with an award winning grin of reprieve. She'd certainly hit the jackpot.

"_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" "Check-and-fucking-mate."_

Daryl Dixon was on her like white on rice, in every sense of the term. She used the kickback of his bike to keep herself upright while the fumigating redneck thundered and shouted to the heaven's dismissal inches away from her face. Madeline kept her angelic smile and even batted her eyes a few times while she drowned out his raging voice in the effort it took to take another long drag from his cigarette.

"I'm sorry, but after that little exchange with Rick I _had to_ have smoke, _Daryl._" She sported a similar naughty wink to him when she added softly in his ear, "I just couldn't take the fact that he found out _our little secret._" Their eyes were deadlocked and the redneck had to square his jaw before he went belligerent and flipped his precious bike over _with her on it_. _"Just who in the hell did she think she was?!"_

From a considerable distance away, Rick wasn't sure if he should be concerned, or just flat out laughing at the show the angry couple was putting on. Once Daryl started off ranting and rambling about Madeline smoking his favorite pack of cigarettes, he headed in another direction so that at least one of them could get the hell out of there if they needed to cool their tempers. He couldn't tell if they were seriously fighting or about to make out, but from the looks on their faces, Madeline was certainly enjoying the way Daryl was screaming at her. _"This girl must be the devil if she enjoys being yelled at like that…"_ He could recall from the wonderful midnight domestic disturbance calls how some women _especially_ liked riling up their husbands just to have the satisfaction that they could make their husbands lose control and look like a fool in front of the men of authority. Poor Daryl didn't know he was giving her exactly what she wanted by looking like a giant five year old having a temper tantrum. The sheriff was far enough to where he couldn't exactly hear what they were arguing about, but he what he _could _see was Daryl yanking the cigarette from her mouth and start to smoke it, earning a slight cringe from the presumptuous Rick Grimes.

Daryl was still fumed when he yanked the cigarette out of Madeline's hand and put shoved it into his mouth like a child. He begrudgingly flung his leg over to ride his motorcycle while Rick turned around and readied to unlock the gates for the two to head out on their way. With a powerful roar of the engine, the two hurled down the pavement and headed toward the exit of the prison gates. He sure as hell hoped that the young woman would learn that if she was gonna play games, she was gonna lose. With Daryl, you didn't get even; you got your ass _beat_.

"Stupid girl…" He growled defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the rumble in his belly when she wrapped her slender arms around his waist. The shocked look on her face when he actually started smoking the used cigarette was definitely worth being lowered down a few dignity points. Her crystal blue eyes dilated for that second where her smooth pink lips were left slightly parted from where the smoke had once been. She sure as hell hadn't expected her to take a long drag and _puff smoke into her face._ Oh the pride went straight to his ego that he even boasted to add "_You're gonna have plenty of dirty little secrets between us if you keep running that pretty little mouth of yours over my things._"


	6. Chapter 6

Kept Out (But Locked In)

That hunting run would certainly be engraved into Madeline's memory for the rest of her natural life. It was bad enough that every Walker with a functioning pair of ears was attracted to the god-awful noise Daryl's bike was making, but now came the soul-wrenching task of finding live animals to hunt in the first place. It also wasn't helping that the bigot was ever so bold with shooting down her vengeful antic with his brutish methods of getting even. She was certainly left with a thorn in her side and a moody attitude for their venture into the outdoors. They must have driven at least five miles east from the prison in search of possible game, where Daryl _insisted _that he had had a favorable outcome the last time he'd gone.

"You ever eaten squirrel before?" He dared to ask after they'd spent a good part of two hours chasing squirrel ghosts and hiding from hoards of Walkers that were passing through the forest. All they'd managed to find were four squirrels, three from Daryl's cross bow and one without a head from Madeline's lucky tomahawk shot. They certainly had brought _real_ ammo to fight, but that didn't mean they were going to go out looking for one. They were on a fool's errand to find some food _to pass the time_, after all "idle hands do the devil's work", it wasn't too important that they score a ton of food. Daryl was still second-guessing why he'd gone in the first place, it was unnecessary, risky, stupid, and more importantly _why he brought along Her_. The pair was both equally yet oppositely frustrated in being cooped up at the prison 24/7 and it wasn't helping that in the late hours of the night Glen and Maggie were hitting their little love beats into the wee hours of the morning.

To Madeline she couldn't help but feel slightly jealous, at least someone was feeling alive around that place. It was forever and a day since she'd been laid to next Sunday, hell she hadn't even been intimately _touched_ since Gerard grabbed her butt and-… _Gerard… _the thought shot into her heart like an arrow, slicing through her cheery demeanor with the cruelty of a sword. Madeline kept on walking; burying the sudden surge of grief with her convincing smile, hoping Daryl wouldn't notice the dent in her emotional armor that was slowly spreading like a cancer through her mind.

Daryl's sudden desire to be out of the prison was his frustration at the lack of sexual action; the fact that Glen was getting laid on a semi-regular basis was driving his manhood into a depression as a reminder that the last time he bumped uglies with a chick was this one girl named Beverly at a roadside bar in a bathroom stall in 2010. Another source of his misfortune was that he had been outrageously drunk and couldn't recall what she looked like, or that it had even happened in the first place, but he was _always_ reminded when he took a leak at a gas station by Merle who liked to use the phrase, "Taking a Beverly" to torment him before, and occasionally during, the zombie apocalypse.

"Do I _look_ like I was raised in a cave?" Madeline chided, rolling her eyes playfully as she skipped a rock across a flowing, muddy creek. Now that it was around five or six in the evening the sun was beginning to disappear behind the trees and the first specks of stars were beginning to dot the darkening sky. They were starting their trek back towards the bike to get home before dark when Daryl had noticed that _she_ was actually the one leading _him_ back towards their ride home. It wasn't that he took offense to her leading him around, but the way she kept talking to him with her face looking forward was starting to slightly irritate him

"You _definitely_ won't like my answer to that one, sweetheart." He'd manage to outdo her in skipping rocks, accomplishing a seven-layer skip in one smooth stroke! Madeline hated to admit it, but she was beginning to like how Daryl was always showing off and parading himself around like a show-pony. It cheered up, strangely, like he was deliberately searching for ways to get her attention either positively, or asking for a punch to his diaphragm. At least he could distract her from her thoughts… _"I should have protected them"_

"Oh shut up, you know what I meant!" She laughed silently, glancing back at him sportingly over her shoulder, refusing to let her new companion know what was going on behind her mask.

Now that her long wavy hair was pulled back Daryl could see the tiny chain around her neck. He wasn't all too sure about how he felt about her with her hair up, but he found it sexy enough. _"Whoa there, Dixon, have you lost your mind already?"_

"Mind telling me how you know where you're going?" He said curiously, altering the course of his thoughts by increasing his footsteps slightly so that he could walk by her right side. It was slightly impressive that she could lead him this far on the right track, but he figured she was trying to bullshit him into thinking she was little Miss-Know-It-All… Again.

"Ya keep the sun on the left to find your way back; it was on the right when we got here hours ago so we have to do the opposite." She stated matter-of-factly, reaching inside her tank and rubbing her thumb across some dangling pieces of metal.

"Well I'll be damned." Daryl chuckled, half smiling at Madeline in the respect that she was proving to know a thing or two about survival. From the corner of her eye she returned the favor and smiled back at him, tucking the metal pieces back into her shirt before continuing on their path in silence.

_"Well this is a first," _Daryl thought in melancholy, adjusting his crossbow across his shoulder with the line of squirrels dangling from his back when they kept their silence going for the next couple minutes. _"She's always running her mouth; I wonder why now she's become the silent type."_

_"Well shit, little brother, I never picked you for the sensitive type."_ Daryl could hear Merle taunting him, it was certainly annoying the hell out of him that even his dead brother had a thing or two to say compared to She-who-loves-to-talk-shit-all-the-time. Why did he care, though? He'd only met the girl a week ago, she just stormed in out of nowhere from a hole under the fence and almost got herself killed trying to find those kids…. Kids… Now that he'd struck his own emotional chord he realized what was suddenly going through Madeline's mind now that he was forced to think out losing Sophia. _"Way to go, asshole."_ He cursed, feeling the bitter sting of guilt purge his mind when he thought about how much of a failure he turned out to be when he couldn't save the one person who didn't deserve to die in this fucked up shithole of a world. He hadn't even thought to empathize with her before, sharing in the emotional torture that all too similarly mirrored his own. It was five little words that spilled out that would change his life forever. He let one slip of the tongue alter how the rest of this night and the rest of the nights after that would be from then on.

"I lost a little girl." Daryl confessed darkly, barely loud enough for Madeline to hear over her own guilt-ridden thoughts.

"What?" Madeline halted; she turned around so fast to look him in the eyes that Daryl had to jerk his hands to her elbows to keep from bumping into her. Her skin was so cool to the touch that his hands felt like they were scalding to her soft, sensitive flesh. He breathed an apology before letting his grip go slack and dropped his hands to his side before continuing.

"A couple months ago, our group lost a little girl named Sophia. I spent days trying to find her when she was right under my goddamn nose and we lost her…" The weight of his words made Daryl look away in shame, he _hated_ himself for letting Sophia die like that. She might not ever say it out loud, but he had always felt that in some way, Carol had always hated him for it too. After agonizing seconds or silence, he dragged his eyes from the side to look at Madeline. Her crystal blue eyes were shining with unshed tears, almost glowing in the twilight of the midnight blue forest. She didn't say a word, but with her eyes she was pleading for Daryl to reach out to her... to do _something._

"I'm sorry…" She whimpered, dropping her head low and sniffling at the forest floor. _"Good Lord, please don't do this to me…"_ Daryl's chest began to ache and his arms were turning to lead the longer he kept them glued to his sides. He wanted so badly to avoid this feeling, this strange sense of attachment that was sneaking through his smartass comments and wise-ass actions that normally pushed everyone and their mother away… but this little girl had to go and challenge him, to goad him into persisting with her and carrying on with their snide comments so he had to keep thinking of ways to irritate and bother her. She made it so hard to leave her alone when all she did was make him mad or feel like an idiot with her skill and meaningful conversations, what the hell was going on between them?!

"Stop cryin', it ain't your fault." He groaned, gently dropping his crossbow to the ground and placing their catch of squirrels beside it. Every step he took toward her was a wall he was breaking, an unsaid rule that was the only thing from keeping him from losing his mind in this unforgiving world. He was letting her in, and that was going to be the biggest mistake of his life, he knew it in his bones. The one thing that Daryl could never do was happening against all of his better judgments. His mind was screaming for him to stop while he still had a chance, to shove her away and shut down whatever was going on between them once and for all. Then it happened. Daryl Dixon slowly wrapped his arms around Madeline's fragile body and held her tightly against his chest, locking her delicate frame against his firm body with his hands gently rubbing the smooth of her back.

He was falling in love; and that idea for him was more terrifying that any Walker he had ever faced in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl and Madeline didn't speak the entire ride back to the prison; it was as if the two were both trying their hardest to erase the events that had come to pass clean from their memories, write off their one vulnerable moment and pretend that it had never even happened. It wasn't right to feel again, to be _human again_. The perversion on their peace of mind set them rigidly against one another, refusing to let the slightest sign of weakness destroy what had taken months for them to adjust to this new, unforgiving world. Where could they fit in the possibility for love when every day they lived was another chance to die a horrible, agonizing death? That seemed to be the question stewing in both of their heads. The only reason why Daryl had broken their unspoken truce and drowned out the buzzing white noise of his bike with his voice was to answer a call when Rick had suddenly radioed in on them.

_"You need to get back, almost gonna be dark outside, Daryl." _Daryl could help but politely scoff into the air before pushing down the receiver to respond to him. He certainly didn't need Rick telling him what to do either, not now. His frown kept digging deeper into his skin; he hated feeling like he had to say something to her, _knowing that he wouldn't give a damn if it were anyone else_.

"We're already headed back, be there in a couple minutes." He grunted, before letting go of the receiver and handing the walkie-talkie back to Madeline. He didn't owe her _anything_ he spat at himself mentally, resuming his trademark too-tough guy persona. He focused on the road ahead dutifully revving the engine to further the distance between himself and the woman behind him, but the slightest graze of her soft fingertips against the rough of his palm sent a sensuous tremor down his spine that reminded him of what she felt like…. That she was _real_.

_"Don't do this to me now, Good Lord I can't keep doing this…"_

Madeline hoisted herself off of Daryl's bike without a word, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders coldly and turning her back to him to make her way toward the prison cells inside. Rick and the other men were clearing the yard when T-Dog was kind enough to let the brooding pair back inside through the fence with a cheery "Hello, Miss Sinclair!" Feeling guilty for not having made so much as a single conversation to the man in days past, Madeline offered him a small nod in acknowledgement before saying a silent greeting in return. It was all she was willing to offer at the moment, but it would have to do until tomorrow, when she could give him a proper "hello" and try to further befriend him then. What she wanted most right now was to be alone... _and away from him… _

She was so lucky to run into the rest of the group just making their way outside; Maggie, Beth and Carl were helping an elderly bearded man on a pair of crutches make his way towards some fresh evening air. Fighting back a discontented frown she held open the door for the four to set the man for his first few wobbly steps out into the prison courtyard…. Poor old man was missing a leg; wait… _he was the man from the gurney._ It was Hershel! An unexpected glimmer of hope planted itself in her calloused, withering heart at his recovery and the group cheered and celebrated happily that Hershel was finally "among the living". The stupid joke was even enough to make Madeline laugh at the cynical irony of it all, here this man was, surrounded in a prison full of Walkers and not a doctor for miles, and he should be _so glad_ to get it all back. Leaning back against the rough brick wall to one of their cell blocks, she considered headed back into her cozy little six by eight jail cell to sulk and force herself into spiraling depression all over again, but the affectionate puppy-dog looks Carl was giving her from across the yard melted the yard melted even _her_ heart of stone. She swallowed whatever pride or ego she had and made an effort to get to know these people, after all, they'd taken her in as one of their own. _"Maybe I should stick around for a few minutes after all…" _Then she saw something shambling out of the corner of her eye…

"_No! No! NO!_" The world stopped spinning; it was all happening so fast, _too fast_! Madeline's heart ceased to beat in the moment when her eyes finally connected to the undead, staggering figures that was only yards away from the family beside her. Words failed to describe her horror, the flood of panic that engulfed her rapidly overwhelmed mindset; she stood there dumbstruck at the sight and nearly fainted had a voice not shouted the first warning cries to the unsuspecting family the decomposed monsters were hungrily advancing to.

"Walkers, look out!" Carl yelled, backing his mother behind him as he drew out his weapon to defend them. Bullets shot, guns were being drawn, black blood was gushing onto the concrete as gooey blobs of flesh and bone dropped to the earth without so much as a flinch in response to their groups attempts at defending themselves. The Walkers seemed to be getting even more and more animated and excited as their living prey began to panic and fueled their hunger with their mortified shrieks of terror.

"RICK! _DARYL, SOMEBODY!_" The scream erupted from her body savagely as she dropped the weight on her shoulders and flung her tomahawks into her palms. T-Dog, Maggie and Carol had already drawn their own guns and Beth all but shoved her father into a fenced-in entryway, locking it shut behind them while Maggie, Carl and Lori fled toward the cellblock. Madeline's heart hammered in her chest as her vision began to cloud at the sheer numbers of Walkers that had completely sunk up on them! _Where are they coming from?!_ When she tried to find the source, all she could see was gnashing teeth and gray flesh, creeping clumsily and greedily to consume the very flesh from their bones. Everyone quickly scattered, desperate to escape the brunt of the undead that was rapidly closing in on them from their crooked, aimless direction. Madeline saw Walkers dropping left and right from bullet shots to the head but she tried to keep the closest ones away from the entrances so that she could defend the group hurrying to save their lives. Madeline could hear Rick and the other men shouting and racing from the other side of the fence, she moved her eyes to see Rick all but in a mad dash to hurry and protect his family.

"AHH" Howled a voice from behind Madeline, writhing against another side of the fence as he tried to block more Walkers from entering through their feeble defenses. Ruby red blood gushed from T-Dog's shoulder but he shoved the Walker off from him with his large, free hand and knocked it down, lodging four bullets into its skull before grabbing Carol toward an open doorway to escape inside the prison. Maddie halted in disbelief as she watched the moribund scenes unfolding around her like some cheap horror flick she couldn't get escape from, like some sort of mediocre spin-off from Dawn of the Dead. As mind slowly processed how quickly their world had been shattered once again, her tomahawks drooped limply in her hands and her eyes glazed over as her mind began to wander…. "Maddie, come on, _let's go!_" Carl pleaded loudly, waving his hand rapidly so she could follow him away from the incoming swarm. Madeline snapped out of her trance and sighed bitterly, sprinting across the yard and smashing in the closest Walker's faces in with her tomahawks as the walls closed in and the dead dragged their feet right on behind them. _Down the rabbit hole and back again._

In the aftermath outside the prison, Rick is all but hysterical to find Lori and Carl. The mass of undead had stalked and shuffled their ways inside the prison, and the longer that they roamed drove Rick further into the depths of insanity. He was as wild as a coyote caught in a bear-trap, he's snarling and growling, roaring as he slices and whacks at Walkers with his machete, decapitating limps as he storms through the prison yard, screaming for his family. Rick was running from every corner of the fences, madly trying to find the reason why all those Walkers were able it get in in the first place.

"These links are cut guys, someone _cut the lock open_." Glenn reported gravely, holding up the broken links of the chains and latch in his hand. Daryl had already thought of a few suspects when conveniently Axel and Oscar approach the group of men from their side of the prison. Rick righteously accuses them of sabotaging their defenses and sending Walkers straight at them but just as the lanky, bearded man conjures up a weak explanation to their whereabouts, the prison's alarm blares, summoning more Walkers to the outer fence.

"There's a backup generator inside the prison, how are we supposed be behind this when we're right here?!"Oscar explains, lamely proving that someone else is messing with things from inside the prison. Daryl doesn't admit to how pathetic the prisoner's claim is but Rick, for now at least, seems to buy it and follows him inside the infested prison to disable the alarms.


	8. Chapter 8

Killer Within

Madeline is in such a panic that she imagined the walls around her constricting and tightening around her while Maggie, Lori and Carl scrambled through the narrow halls, sprinting desperately away from the approaching swarm. They were so focused on putting distance away from the undead chasing them from behind that they were nearly blindsided by the Walker that appeared from an adjoining hallway.

"Lori, watch out!" Maggie screamed, swinging her knife at a shambling Walker that was mere inches from the pregnant woman's throat. The Walkers' jaw is yacked clean off and Madeline forces it down by kicking in its one good; stomping its fleshy, grotesque face in with a quick curb stomp into the hole in its jaw for good measure while it was down. Bone crunched and grinded under her boots, she scuffled on her side to defend the group as they headed deeper and deeper into the belly of the prison. The uncharted, shadowy territory terrified Madeline even more now that the moans and dead groans she heard haunting the walls weren't just her mind playing tricks anymore. Something sinister lurked in every lingering, creeping shadow that would greedily rip out her throat and they needed to find a way out _fast _before they ran into any locked doors or dead ends.

"We should head for the boiler room, that's the only place that I think we can lock them out!" The sharp-witted Maggie whispered, looking back at Madeline with an intense amount of worry burning in her pale green eyes as they darted around every crevasse in the walls and flinched at every skitter on the floor. Madeline nodded briefly, but as she began to let the group advance she could hear the animalistic snarls echoing closer and closer from behind them. The group hurried into the open boiler room and huddled back, each moving in turn to move the heavy, metal door shut while it screamed against the floor in shrill protest.

"_Oh_!" Lori suddenly winced sharply, breathing hard and ragged as pain forced her to clutch her lower belly. The other two women were trying their best to keep the door behind them from slamming wide open when the hoard began to haunch and saunter against it from the other side, morbidly attracted to the noise it had made before they could see its promise of living prey. The door needed to be pushed a few more inches, but the force of the undead shoving their weight against the door hindered them significantly, and they resorted to breaking off the prying, boney fingers of the corpses that so eagerly snapped and reached for their faces so that they could shut it.

When the pressure in her arms and inside her center became too much, Lori staggered away and was using a chain attached to the metal machine they were hiding against to keep her body upright as the pain burned through her core in an inferno of raw, white-hot nerves. Maggie and Madeline's eyes went wide with fear as Carl mutedly tried to soothe his agonized mother from their distance, begging her to tell him what was wrong.

The lock clicked and the woman pushed themselves away from the door, breathing heavily as the wild scratches the undead made against it echoed deviously in the room, the undead bitterly scolding their cheated luck out of fresh meat.

"Maggie!" Carl yelped sadly, looking pleadingly at the other woman as tears were streaming down his pale, freckled cheeks. His mother was gingerly wiping them away with her bloodied hands as she struggled to breathe from the searing pain that scorched her body like fire as her round belly lurched and jerked; blood beginning to seep from in between her legs.

"Oh God…" Madeline breathed numbly, frozen in place by the door as bile churned wickedly in her gut. Maggie gravely went to Lori's side, kneeling beside her now laid-down, swollen form. Madeline forced herself to drown out their dark conversation; she didn't think she would be able to keep on a brave face for Carl if she heard Lori say the only way for the baby to live would be for her to die. Madeline could see the heartbreak in both mother and child's eyes as they began to say their goodbyes while Maggie took out her knife and ushered the young boy over to her.

"_You are so brave, Carl…_" She heard Lori whisper to her son dismally as he began to move away from her side, saying it as if it were to reassure her that no matter what, Carl would survive when she was gone. Lori's eyes squeezed shut into fine lines as Maggie lifted her shirt to prepare for the C-Section, eerily calm about the rapidly closing window of life that she had left. Carl was weeping distraughtly within Madeline's limp arms, staring directly at his mother's face, contorted in the anguish of knowing that this would be one of the last grisly images her son would remember of her.

Without warning Maggie's knife mercilessly pierced Lori's flesh and as the horrible scream reverberated through the boiler room, Madeline had to force Carl to turn around so he wouldn't have seen his mother being split open like a demented lab specimen. Trembles of disgust and horror bristled against Madeline's white flesh, growing all the more uncontrollable as she pressed Carl to her tighter so he couldn't look back at the unspeakable act Maggie was forced into doing to his mother. He sobbed violently against Madeline's chest, clutching her chunks of her shirt into his fists while her arms shielded his ears from the worst of Lori's hoarse, dying howls.

"I'm sorry, Carl, _I'm so fucking sorry…_" She whispered bitterly, wrapping her arms around his thin, scrawny shoulders, adamantly grinding her teeth to drown of the sickening tearing and ripping of flesh that used to be Lori's womb. She could hear Maggie's rising hysteria in her harsh, gagging pants as she dug her blade deeper into Lori's stomach, every inch she dug deeper seeming to increase her desperation after Lori was good and done for, dead to the world with her body desecrated by the large hole in her guts. Suddenly the sickening sounds stopped altogether; Madeline heard Maggie gasp, and a tiny, ringing cry shut out the world.

_"It's not real…"_ Madeline's mind argued as she numbly placed one foot in front of the other, leading the funeral march from the abysmal darkness of the catacombs and back into the blinding outside world. _"It just can't be real…" _She carefully adjusted the tiny bundle in her arms, hushing the worst of the baby's waning cries by rocking her gently against her chest. Her squinted eyes found Beth and Hershel first out in the courtyard, unharmed and seemingly grateful to have escaped with what could loosely be called their lives. At least they weren't going to be added to the list of people she had abandoned to their deaths. Faces flashed through her mind as she made every difficult, mind-numbing step forward; the faces of Gerard, Ollie, Rose, Gwen, T-Dog, Carol and now _Lori?!_ _"Dear God, don't make me do this…"_ The incessant guilt throbbing in her heart stung so much when Rick quickly hurried to make his way over to their group from the far side of the yard, his eyes searching wildly at their faces to do a head count on who was missing that he hadn't even noticed the baby in her arms.

"Where is she?" He asked simply, incomprehensively wrapped in his denial that he was actually perplexed by Lori's absence. Madeline's heart broke; she couldn't hold it in anymore and her pitiful tears streaked down her face as she slowly shook her head to confirm the sheriff's worst fears. Rick's inconsolable sadness blindsided him, the weight of her revelation was too much for him to process that he collapsed, moaning sorrowfully at the loss of his wife. Madeline felt a burning sensation in her chest cavity, like she was being hollowed out on the inside while she watched Rick scream and curse on the cement floor. She couldn't react anymore, not now, something had happened in her heart and she felt like that last string of humanity she had so stubbornly held onto was gone in an instant.

_"I need to get over this_,_"_ she thought stoically, flinching at the memory of the loud crack that the bullet Carl had unleashed into his mom's brain made, frowning absent mindedly as she gently hushed the infant that was fussing in its blood-soaked blanket. _"I can't feel anything."_

"We're going to need more formula soon to take care of that baby." Hershel stated sullenly, his glum demeanor brightening in his eyes as he watched the baby's tiny, pudgy arms waving gently at his silver whiskers. Only hours after securing cell block C, the remnants of the group were able to scurry back into their cells and thank their "lucky" stars for being able to survive the evening's aftermath. Madeline had been with Hershel to examine Lori Junior since then, but she wasn't in any tremendous rush to leave; to grimly find out just how many of her new friends had become Walker Bait that day. They would bury the dead tomorrow, right now they were, in every sense of the term, recovering.

"You're telling me," Madeline chuckled in melancholy, cooing lightly and clicking her tongue affectionately at the newborn nestled in her arms, "we have enough to last the week, but then what do we do?" She asked in response, brushing away long auburn locks of her hair that had found their way into the baby's tiny face. The infant was a welcome distraction to being alone, after the way everyone had been afflicted by the dangers of being overrun by Walkers, being constantly on her feet to attend to the nameless baby girl kept her spirit from faltering like everyone else's.

"We'll need to make another run for supplies into town, but with Rick in his current condition, it would be unwise to consult on him right now." The white man informed, a shuddering grimace tightening his wrinkled features as Rick's screams echoed through the silent halls of the prison. Madeline nodded in agreement as her own shivers unnerved her as well. If she had been feeling low after the attack, Rick was sent straight to hell with grief. Madeline could envision Rick stalking the shadowy bowels of the catacombs with his large, blood-soaked machete, wildly slaughtering and dismembering in drunken, grief-stricken bloodlust. She'd never felt so threatened by the man before, but now that she had this baby in her arms, she wasn't too sure of where to take the next, timid steps with her new, broken leader.

The baby girl began to fuss and whine as she began to awaken and Madeline excused herself from Hershel's cell, soothingly rubbing the tiny bundle's back as she made her way to her cell to put her to lay down. Madeline hummed a tuneless lullaby to comfort the child as she made her way up the iron stairs, keeping her gaze low and over her shoulder to check on the baby's shallow, calming breaths.

The discolored infant whined and wriggled helplessly when Madeline had gently laid her down into a postal service crate with one pink blanket to serve as a mattress and her bundle as the blanket. She was soon curled into a mini ball and was fast asleep in her makeshift cradle beside Madeline's metal bedframe. The ghost of a smile came to Madeline's lips, but as she moved away from the precious crate, and the baby had drifted off to sleep, the concrete beneath her shifted and toppled the woman over. Madeline was lucky to have fallen into her bed, but the force of her fall made her slam the edge of her skull onto the bedframe. Her head jarring, Madeline briefly saw patches of white light as pain pulsated and buzzed through her mind; she hazily drifted in and out of consciousness to the sounds of a baby's cries and images of small children huddled by her bedside before the world swallowed her whole and she disappeared into black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, my beautiful readers! Thank you all for your kind attention and sorry it's taken me so long to repost but I definitely feel the drive again and it won't be long before the next chapter is posted :) I hope you all enjoy and please don't be afraid to ask me any questions or leave a review, thank you, lovelies! I hope you like! ~TheRabbidRabbit**

* * *

In The Aftermath

"Ssh, ssh, it's okay baby girl…" A soft voice hummed, singing wordless lullabies to the crying baby. Through the darkness that clouded her vision, Madeline strained to open her eyes and shift her weight so she could fully view her unexpected feminine guest. It was a mildly pleasant surprise compared to what she'd had been used to waking up to.

"Maggie?" She groaned groggily, rubbing her temples with the soft pads of her fingers. Her mind was throbbing and pulsating at the corners of her eyes, slightly distorting the comforting image of the sun-worn farmer's daughter; for a few seconds Madeline thought she was seeing double.

"Hmm?" The other woman tuned, bouncing the tiny baby on her shoulder as she gently patted the tiny pink bundle in her arms. Lori Junior cooed happily against Maggie's neck and squirmed against her gently, rubbing her tiny forehead against her soft cotton tank top. Madeline's maternal instincts suddenly flared with a trace of jealousy rearing its ugly head in the back of her mind, but she held her tongue and fought against the rickets in her joints to sit beside the lovely Maggie Greene. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but from the brightness in the room it couldn't have been longer than an hour or two, give or take.

"You didn't have to do that," She commented softly, eyeing the tiny, emptied bottle of formula that rested by her foot with a hint of guilt. Lori Junior was probably crying and miserable while she had been passed out like a particularly lazy, drunk ex-boyfriend of hers, so she was thankful that Maggie had stepped up for her on her behalf.

"Mm-mm," Maggie insisted, swishing her short, chocolate colored ringlets as she shook her head. "I wanted to; you looked like you could've used a break…" _Doesn't make me feel any better…_ She thought glumly, shrugging her shoulders in response.

Madeline chuckled humorlessly and sighed; the aches in her head had dimmed subtly, but she could still feel the faint throbs beating against her skull. "You're probably right, I haven't exactly played Mommy in a while…" she said sardonically, mentally kicking herself for being too irresponsible and useless to do anything right. Apparently she had an affinity for being the world's shittiest caregiver. Blackout, seizure, coma or not, she shouldn't allow herself to be so weak. Not ever. Not again. All it took now was one fuck up and the people that depended on her would be toast. The fear of unrelenting failure was boring into her brain like a rusty screwdriver, now more than ever she was terrified of losing more people. _She couldn't let it happen again_.

_But what in the hell was happening to her?_ Passing out on the job certainly wasn't something she did on a daily basis, so it was definitely a major cause of concern. With no doctors, no CAT scans or no x-Rays, she could have a malignant tumor the size of New Zealand latched to her lungs and she'd be none the wiser! _One day she could just keel over and then take a chunk out of Rick or Glenn's legs….!_ The thought of actually turning in the middle of a conversation was just as unbearably embarrassing as it was tragically and sadistically ironic. Madeline dropped her head into her hands and prayed that if she still _had the choice_ as to how she would go, she'd go out like a badass and finally get to use those grenades she'd been meaning to get rid of and take out as much of the Walkers as possible. It was funny how even though she was irreversibly scarred from all the death and destruction in the world, she still wanted to go down in a blaze of fiery, violent, instantaneous glory.

While Madeline dug a deeper hole for herself in her own mind, Maggie watched her with empathy, wishing she knew what to say to comfort the mysterious young girl. Madeline was sitting beside her with her head slumped in her hands, causing her long auburn hair to shift forward and make a veil over her face. From the arching of her back she could make out the ridges of her spine and trace the fine lines of her ribs through the fabric of her black tank. She really wasn't holding up as well physically as she did mentally.

When Maggie had come in originally to investigate the cries of the baby, she witnessed how truly down-trodden the girl was. Her eyes were rimmed with black from lack of sleep and stress and she was breathing so faintly that Maggie had actually thought she was dead. Maggie knew Maddie wouldn't want her pity any more than she would if she were in her position, so she acted like everything was normal and they both put on brave faces so the other couldn't see how hard they were struggling to cope with the trauma of the day's events.

So while she allowed Madeline to tell her that she was okay and everything was fine, Maggie frowned sympathetically, but didn't add anything to fuel the flames of Madeline's pit of self-loathing. Maggie had actually come to admire how the young woman carried herself for the others, after risking her life to protect her, Lori and Carl; she couldn't help but respect her courage. Even while Maddie was at her lowest point she didn't want her to see it.

Now that it was just the two (_well, two and a half_) of them, Maggie could see how the pressure really began to eat away at her now that they were alone. She wasn't normally so quiet, since the day she'd arrived she could depend on Madeline to start a conversation with just about anyone in the group, but now…. She was just shutting herself away from them. In a weird kind of way, Madeline reminded her of herself, because here _she was_, alone with her and the baby, shutting herself off from their beloved group. She didn't even think to go to her dad or _Glenn _about how she felt, what she wanted most was to be _alone_. But Madeline needed someone. Because she was there for her, Maggie was resolved into doing her best to help put her back on her feet again. It was the least she could do.

The two women sat beside each other with nothing but the sound of squeaky bed springs and the slow paces of their breathing; happy to at least have this moment of peace and each other's friendly company. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing about the other.

"What do _you_ think we should do about formula?" Madeline finally asked, breaking the silence; her sharp, crystal blue eyes softening while she watched Maggie cradle the now sleeping newborn. Maggie smirked and carefully mulled over her options; she knew it was only a matter of time before they'd run out of baby food but she couldn't just _ask her_ to go back out into the open so soon after the breech…

"I think…. _For now at least_…. We should just focus on getting through today." Maggie said slowly, thoughtfully choosing the words to say as she processed exactly what she had meant. Right now wasn't a good time to be worrying about the future, right now should be focused on their sheer, dumb luck that they were alive.

"I guess you're right…" Madeline agreed, feigning a smile on her lips, even though her eyes revealed she was still somewhat downcast. The young woman shrugged her limp shoulders again and stood up, running a pale hand through her long auburn hair. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk…" She murmured, barely hearing Maggie say "okay" as she walked out of her cell and stepped into the hallway. Maggie frowned but kept rocking the sleeping baby girl for a little while longer, fighting back tears as the silence of the prison began to gnaw away at her sanity once again.

Daryl Dixon swore on his life that he was going to go bat-shit insane if he had to deal with this damned silence any longer. He was already pissed off at the fact that they'd lost T-Dog and Carol because of that bastard Andrew, but there was also something else on his mind that was nipping away at him; and it bothered him worse than the time he's gotten poison ivy all over his dumb ass when he was a kid. It was that damned girl.

"_Madeline…_" He spat bitterly, cursing her name as if she were some kind of contagious disease as he paced around loudly in his perch above the prison. If he had any liquor left he'd have downed it in a heartbeat to get that _stupid bitch_ out of his head. But who was he kidding? He was just as stuck with her as the scars were on his back. He hadn't seen her since they'd arrived at the prison but since he didn't find any loose dog-tags or bloody black bandanas lying around; he knew he wasn't fortunate enough to have her kick the bucket just yet. Part of him wished she had been turned into Walker-bait while the other imagined several varying…_ unspeakable_ scenarios that could have happened to her between the two of them. _Jesus Christ, he needed to stop_.

He was also understandably concerned about Rick, who wandering around stark, raving mad on a psychotic witch hunt somewhere deep within the bowels of the catacombs. Daryl may not have particularly _liked_ Lori, but _goddamn_. From what he could've guessed, it certainly wasn't the most _merciful_ way to die. Then there was that pesky little son of hers, Carl. Daryl knew a thing or two about what goes on in the dark side of a boy's mind when shit hits the fan, and something told him what happened in the boiler room was going to stick with him for a while, if not the rest of his life. He certainly wasn't that doe-eyed little pest that didn't know a damn thing about killing anymore, Daryl could see it in his eyes.

Daryl _also _had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Glenn after he tried to calm Rick down, but from the panicked look in the Korean's eyes when he came sprinting out in the opposite direction, there wasn't going to be any _talking_ to Rick. _Man, what he'd give for even a sip of whiskey…_.

"Fuck it," He groaned, finally losing his resolve to suffer "in silence". He opened his door to his perch so he could climb down and rejoin the ranks of "un-undead" and at least talk to _someone _that wasn't himself. Hell, if she were still there, he'd even talk to that smartass blonde bimbo that almost killed him a couple months back, _Andrea_. Daryl scoffed at the idea of engaging in any "meaningful conversation" with the "well-intended" slut that slept with Shane for the sake of having him stick with the group. He felt like such a cynical, bigoted misogynist, but he couldn't give a damn in that moment, what he wanted, what he _needed_ was distraction.

_"Women; ya can't live with 'em, and ya sure as hell can't live without 'em, baby brother!" _The ghost of his brother teased as he made his way down the tall iron ladder, making Daryl snicker to himself before he wittingly replied, _"It certainly felt that way when all yer options were a slut, a two-timing stupid bitch, an abused, love-starved ghost of a woman, a helpless underage teenage girl, the farmer's tomboy daughter and a smartass, tomahawk-wielding piece of ass that never knew went to keep her mouth shut!"_

Daryl was increasingly sexually agitated, egotistically angsty and looking for an outlet to take out his frustrations on; he was so finished with this whole zombie apocalypse bullshit that if he were at least any sort of weak-minded pussy he'd throw himself off of that very ladder and break his sorry neck. Mostly because of his immense sense of self-pride and the sheer size of his ego, he chose to plant his feet firmly on the ground and instead reflected on the reasons of why he desperately needed to get laid. He seriously needed something to take the edge off before he would cut his manhood off and start calling himself "Darleena". _He was so done with this world's bullshit it wasn't even funny._


End file.
